Stains of Scarlet
by WritePassion
Summary: Sam goes undercover for Pearce and finds that the Miami heat has nothing on the challenges he's about to face.  Another story in the Sam/Yvette series, but there's plenty of Michael for you Westen fans!
1. Chapter 1

_This is darker and a bit racier than what I usually write, but it evolved from a theme I'd been wanting to explore in the Sam/Yvette universe since a couple stories back. Hope you all enjoy!_**  
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**Stains of Scarlet**

By WritePassion

Michael didn't like this plan, not one bit. He shook his head and interrupted her. "No, I'm not going to volunteer Sam for this mission. He's still recovering from Angela's attack, and they just moved into their house. Let him have some peace with his family for a little while." He paused. "Besides, he doesn't work for you. And don't hang over my head that crap about him getting into the good graces of the agency. It doesn't work anymore."

Pearce sighed and lay her forearms on the desk surface. "You're right, Michael. Sam has proven himself to the agency. I know it's not fair to ask, but...he's the best fit to do this."

"With all these people, you don't have another middle aged guy who can wear a suit. Are you serious?" Not that Michael thought Sam was incapable of going undercover. He'd done it plenty of times, and quite well. It just wasn't right to ask him to take the risk at this time.

"Michael, Sam has a certain...flair...for this kind of job. His previous reputation as a ladies' man will prove quite useful. Despite his being happily married as Sam Axe, Chuck Finley is just the kind of man we need for this operation, and I have no doubt he'll be able to handle himself."

Michael closed his eyes, fighting back the rising frustration. It was bad enough they used him with such nonchalance, but Sam..."You know what? I'll let you bring this up with him. I'm not going to be your errand boy. I'll act as backup on this, but as far as getting Sam to pose as a playboy, I'm washing my hands of this one." He stood, turned on the ball of his foot, and hurried out of her office. He was aggravated, and now he was late to pick up Fi for her ultrasound test. Otherwise, he would have stayed and let her have the full brunt of his wrath. He was probably better off this way. No use getting himself burned again just for chewing out the boss lady.

He was used to hiding his emotions when necessary, but Michael could never hide them from Fiona. As she got into the car, she looked at him and knew something was wrong. Her mouth opened up, but he cut her off before she spoke a syllable. "Don't wanna talk about it right now, Fi. It'll ruin our doctor visit." Instead, they made small talk while Michael drove them to Fi's obstetrician for the test.

He remembered Sam telling him how it was the first time they saw little Samuel on that screen, and how it all became real for him at that point. Michael wondered if he would feel the same way. He had a hard time believing that a baby would really change his life that much, and there was still plenty of time to get in a deep undercover assignment before Fiona gave birth. _They should have given me that assignment. I don't have the kind of ties Sam has. This isn't going to be easy for him, and if Pearce talks him into it..._

They were at the office, and he parked in a spot near the door. Fiona glanced at him and said, "Michael, please try to look happy about this, will you?"

"I am happy, Fi!" He turned to her and grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "You look like you're pretending. Michael, if you didn't want this to happen..." Fiona wasn't sure why this bothered her so much. He was only being himself.

"Ohhhh, Fi, it's not that." He reached for her and gathered her into his arms. "I love you, and I'll love this baby. It's just not...concrete...enough for me yet. Maybe I'll have one of those moments like Sam did when he saw his son for the first time." He caressed her face and his smile was genuine. "Come on, let's go see him."

"Or her." She smiled.

Michael chuckled. "Or her." He kissed her. "Let's see what we've got!"

Their first stop after the test was his mother's house. Michael wanted to take Fi out to celebrate, but she was more interested in showing everyone the pictures. When they walked in and saw Sam and Yvette with their family visiting Maddie and Samuel, his stomach dropped to his feet. For a little while, he managed to push back his feelings about the assignment, but one look at his friend brought them all rushing back again. So he did his best to cover them up, and no one seemed to be the wiser.

"Is it a boy or a girl," Maddie asked, grinning and holding the pictures. Samuel looked over her shoulder to see them.

"He...or she...was being shy," Fiona replied with a slight blush to her cheeks. "So we'll have to wait until next time."

"Well, did they try wiggling that sonar thing to get the baby to move," Sam asked as he took the pictures from Maddie so he and Yvette could see them.

"They tried that." Fiona blew out a breath. "Personally, I think it's going to be a boy, because he's stubborn, like Michael." She looked up at him and smiled.

"I think it's a toss-up who's more stubborn," Samuel joked.

"Hey, Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure Mike, what's up?"

"Nothin' much. Just need to talk to you about...stuff. Outside."

Sam glanced at the happy faces checking out the photographs and nodded. They were too engrossed to notice the guarded expression on Michael's face. "Sure." When they stepped down to the patio, he asked, "What's wrong, Mike? Is there something you two aren't telling us about the baby?"

"No, everything's fine. Fine." Michael stood facing Sam, his hands jammed into his pockets. He glanced down at the flagstone and composed himself before looking up at him. "Did Pearce talk to you about an operation?"

"Yeah, breaking up a human trafficking ring, it sounds like a real challenge."

"I hope you told Pearce no, you weren't going to take it."

Sam looked at him strangely. "Not sure why you've got a problem with me doing a job for her, but..."

His eyes widened. "You took it! Sam, what were you thinking!"

"Mike, it's just a job. And our freelance stuff has been a little on the light side lately..." He eyed his friend warily. "Relax, I talked it over with Eve before I accepted it, just so she knows what I'm getting myself into. It's all good. Don't worry about me. Mike, it's not like I'm actually going to do anything!"

"Be careful, Sam."

"I know the risks, Mike."

"Do you really? The last time you had to play the ladies' man, you were single. This is a whole different situation now. Being deep undercover changes people, makes them do things they normally wouldn't do."

Sam shook his head. "I know that, Mike. I'll be careful, I promise! Jeez, you're worse than your mother sometimes, you know that?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Michael retorted. He was afraid for Sam. This operation could effectively ruin everything he fought so hard for up until now. Michael knew what that was like. It took him forever to regain a shred of what he'd lost, and it nearly killed him. He couldn't imagine what it would do to Sam.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When the CIA wanted something done right, they pulled out all the stops. Sam relaxed on the penthouse balcony as he studied the darkening Miami skyline, sipped his mojito, and waited for the knock he was expecting. It made his skin crawl to think about meeting Ignatius Vargas, but the man was the key to the investigation. If he could get in good with him, it wouldn't take long to blow everything wide open. The international human trafficking ring would be busted, and a lot of women would finally be free.

Thinking about how at one time Yvette had been held by one of the underground crime world's biggest fish helped him stay focused. If someone would have been able to intervene on her behalf, and that of her parents, her mom and dad might still be alive today. He glanced at his watch. It was 1930 hours. The kids would be getting ready for bed about now, and he should have been readying the bedroom for a little one-on-one time with his wife. He sighed. When he accepted this assignment, he didn't realize just how much he would miss those times of togetherness. His heart ached for them, and there were times when he felt lost without her.

There was a knock on the door, right on time. His valet, played by a CIA agent he never met before this assignment, answered the door and ushered a man dressed in a very expensive designer suit into the living area.

"Mr. Finley, Mr. Ignatius Vargas to see you."

"Thank you, Joseph. Mr. Vargas, it was so nice of you to come see me while you're in Miami." Sam reached out and took the man's hand, shaking it cordially, all the while hiding the fact that he would rather crush it. "I understand you and I have a mutual interest."

"Yes. I understand you have women, and I need more for my business. My clients prefer exotic, the more exotic the better."

"I have plenty of those. Care for a drink?"

Over drinks and a late dinner, they discussed their mutual business and worked out a deal. It would be up to Sam, aka Charles Finley, to deliver a dozen women from Southeast Asia to Mr. Vargas within two weeks. "Don't forget, my friend, they must be most beautiful."

"Of course, Mr. Vargas. Only the best will do!" Sam hid his disgust behind his champagne glass.

"Good." Vargas grinned and shook Sam's hand again. "I look forward to sealing our agreement. Would you be able to have photographs of the girls for me? I want to see what I'm buying." The man smiled, and Sam wanted to wipe it off his face with a good left hook.

Instead, he smiled back. "I can do that. I'll have them for you tomorrow."

"Excellent. I'll send my assistant, Bella, to pick them up tomorrow morning."

"I'll have them here by nine." He nodded at Vargas, took a long drag on his drink, and watched as Joseph let Vargas out of the suite. The alcohol burned his throat as he tried to keep from losing his cool and his dinner in one go.

"Sir, I don't know how you could sit there and listen to him go on about how he intended to treat those women," Joseph, aka Agent Joseph Dewey, spoke with admiration in his tone. He was a relatively new agent, and they assigned him to work with Sam Axe because the ex-Navy SEAL and covert Ops man was unorthodox, but good at what he did. Joseph wasn't disappointed.

"You know, neither do I." He handed Joseph his glass and headed for his private suite. "I'm going to take a shower and get to bed before I start thinking about it."

"I'll call Agent Pearce and make sure those photos are here on time tomorrow."

"Thanks, Joseph. Good night."

"Good night, Sir."

The shower didn't help him feel any cleaner. Pictures that made his stomach turn swirled in his head when he closed his eyes as he lay on the bed. "Oh Eve, I wish I could call you," he whispered into the dark. "I need you." Her presence would make him feel...less dirty. He groaned and turned his face into the pillow, holding it close, pretending it was her instead of just himself in an empty bed. There were some times in the past week that he felt like he was all alone in the world again, and he hated it. She was his breath, and without her, he was suffocating in an underground world of deception and debauchery. _What was I thinking? This isn't me, not any more!_ It just meant he would have to work harder to pull off the part. He had to, because so many innocent women's lives were at stake. He didn't care why the government wanted this ring shut down. To him, it was about the people being hurt.

He didn't sleep well. _Chalk up one more lousy night. _He took the coffee that Joseph offered him and scanned the headlines in the morning edition. _ Same old thing, just another day._ A knock sounded on the door, and Sam glanced at his Rolex. It was 0900 on the dot, the pictures had arrived earlier, and everything was in place for his meeting with Vargas's assistant Bella. Joseph disappeared and soon entered the dining room with a gorgeous young woman with bleach blonde hair, deep blue eyes that were probably enhanced by colored contact lenses, and other features that were obviously purchased. She couldn't have stuffed much more into the tight fitting suit that rode over her curves and left him speechless. Bella smiled at Sam seductively, her eyes taking him in from head to toe.

"Mr. Finley, I'm Bella. Mr. Vargas requested that I come to pick up the photographs of the women."

"Of course." He took the portfolio from Joseph and handed it to her, keeping his distance and holding it in such a way that shielded his eyes from most of her body. "Tell Mr. Vargas that I intend to have everything in place this morning to make our agreed delivery date." His mouth formed a thin smile.

"I will let him know. Thank you, Mr. Finley," she said in a soft voice. As she spoke, she leaned over to show off her ample cleavage, and Sam found it hard not to look. Her scarlet lips smiled in a heart shape. She knew what men wanted, and she knew how to make them want it.

"Joseph, will you show Miss Bella out, please?" He pretended to give his attention to the financial section, and somehow, he managed to get his mind off what he'd seen and remain focused on the job.

Bella wiped the smile off her face, licked her lips, and recovered. She obviously wasn't used to men rebuffing her. "If there's anything else you need, Mr. Finley..." She leaned on the edge of the table, her hip brushing his forearm. Her skirt stopped several inches above her knee, showing off her long legs. "Mr. Vargas said that as part of the deal, I was to be at your beck and call for the next 24 hours. So..." She leaned over, close enough for him to see down her suit jacket and catch a whiff of her perfume. She smelled like gardenias and her bra was baby pink. "Whenever you want me, just call, baby. I'll be ready." She ran a long red nail along his jawline, stopped at his chin, and slowly straightened. She tugged on the hem of her jacket and clicked her heels across the granite floor. At the door, she looked over her shoulder. "I think Mr. Vargas will be quite disappointed if you don't take up his...offer...of my services."

Then she was gone, and Sam could finally breathe again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"How did the meeting go?"

"As well as any meeting with a sleaze ball could go," Sam replied as he spoke with Pearce over the secure line. "I haven't had my skin crawl for awhile, but I had a bad case of it yesterday, and it's not an occasion I'd like to repeat any time soon. This morning he sent over an...assistant...and she offered me some of her services."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I was hoping that wouldn't happen."

He snorted. "Give me a break, Pearce. You and I both knew going into this what I'd have to put up with, so don't try and apologize. I'm only doing this because of what Eve went through. I know we're just taking care of a drip when there's a whole waterfall out there, a lot of guys like Vargas, but I'm just trying to do what I can. Otherwise, I'd be home with my family right now." He paused and looked down at the pool. "Is everything in place?"

"We've got the number of agents you need coming from all over the world, Sam. We'll have the plan fleshed out in a few days. Until then, just sit tight and keep up the front." He heard her breathe over the phone. "Go out and spend our dime, eat at the swankiest places, drink at the hottest clubs. We want Vargas to think you're his kind of guy."

"What you mean is hit the strip clubs, am I right?"

"Gentlemen's clubs. Not those two-bit dives. The ones where it's invitation only." She paused again and asked with a reluctant tone, "Do you need help with that? I can get..."

"No, it's okay. I can deal with it." He hated himself for knowing how to get into those places. "Just worry about things on your end, and I'll take care of business here."

"You've got fifty grand to flash around. Use it."

"You got it." He ended the connection, hid the phone in a secure place, and went to the closet. It was a walk-in filled with tens of thousands of dollars of suits, pants, shirts, ties, shoes, and other accessories. Never mind the silky underwear in the dresser drawers. He would never see anything like this in his home, ever. He picked out a black suit with a dark red shirt and matching tie. If he intended on playing the devil, he might as well look the part.

"Joseph!"

"Yes, Mr. A...Finley?" Joseph poked his head into the closet, and his jaw dropped. "You look..."

"Yes?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"If I were a woman, I'd say stunning, but...wow, you look like a real lady killer."

"I do, huh?" He looked at himself in the mirror from head to toe. No hair was out of place, and his face was freshly shaved. The dye job the stylist at the CIA gave him made him look almost twenty years younger. His hair hadn't been that dark brown since...well, a very long time. He pulled on the lapels, adjusted his cufflinks, and tilted his head trying to loosen the collar a bit. "Looks like I'm ready to head out." He turned and smirked at Joseph. "I'd ask you to go along and help keep me in line, but if Vargas has guys tailing me, seeing me out with my valet wouldn't go over very well, would it?"

"No, Sir, I'm afraid not." Joseph stepped back and let Sam pass. "Go knock their socks off, Sir. And good luck."

"I need more than that," Sam muttered. "I need an army of angels watching over me."

The more he drank, the easier it would be to fit into the role he'd been given, but Sam wasn't about to take the easy way out. Not only would it loosen him up, the alcohol might cause him to say or do something to blow his cover, and then he would be in a world of hurt. He went to dinner at a hip and trendy restaurant that required knowing someone to get in. Pearce arranged for his reservation. Once inside, he found himself sucked into a world of wealth and privilege that opened other doors for him.

One of them was the Bienvenue, a high-class gentlemen's club that catered to the elite. They had private rooms that were outfitted like some of the best hotels in town, so he heard from some of the patrons. The girls were of a higher caliber, and he watched from the bar as dancers performed and most paired off with customers afterward.

"Mr. Finley, do you find our talent lacking?"

Sam turned to find Vargas standing behind him with two taller, stronger men. Their suits barely hid their muscles. He grinned at him and answered, "No, they're very nice. I, um, just got here a little while ago, and I'm still checking things out. I didn't know this was your establishment. Very classy."

"Thank you." He folded his hands in front of himself. "I understand that you decided not to accept Bella's services, Mr. Finley. I was disappointed. But perhaps she didn't suit you. Feel free to spend time with any of the ladies here."

"Thanks. Bella was nice enough, but...I'm sorry, I had other...business...on my mind at the time." He chuckled, and Vargas smiled conspiratorially.

"Perfectly understandable. Well, she's here tonight, if you're interested. She'll be performing in a little while. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Finley."

"Thanks, I will." He waited long enough for Vargas to be well on his way, when his attentions were on other customers and he no longer stole glances toward him. Then he dropped his tab and a generous tip on the bar and left the club.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"That Bella, she's pretty persistent," Joseph said as Sam sat at the table to enjoy the breakfast he ordered from room service.

"What do you mean?" He took his attention away from the paper and looked up at Joseph.

"She called here last night and left a message for you. 'Mr. Finley, I missed you at the club last night. Please call me.' She, uh, left a number and ordered me not to keep it for myself." He laughed nervously as he handed Sam the piece of paper. "She really has the hots for you."

"Well, the feeling is as far as I can get from mutual," Sam replied as he dropped the paper as if it were on fire, and snapped the newspaper open to the sports section.

"Do you mind if I sit, Sir?"

"Go ahead, and knock yourself out here, I ordered enough for the two of us."

"Thanks!" Joseph sat and used his fork to grab some eggs, a pancake, and fruit that he laid on top of the pancake before drizzling syrup on it. "How do you do it, Mr. Axe?"

Sam pulled back the paper and stared at the younger agent. "Joseph, for cover's sake, call me Mr. Finley. That's it. If you slip up and call me Sam, Mr. Axe, Charles, or Chuck, it could be both our heads in the noose. You understand?"

Joseph nodded vigorously. "Completely, Mr. Finley." He smiled, and he reminded Sam of a little kid who sought approval from the adult he admired the most.

"And relax, Joseph. If you're uptight, it's gonna show." Sam bit into a piece of toast. "Wow, that's some good bread." He examined the thick slice that was toasted perfectly on the outside, and still warm and squishy on the inside. "I wonder if I can get his recipe for my wife."

Joseph laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Your wife."

"My wife is funny? You don't even know her, but yeah, she can be hysterical sometimes." His brows knit together. "How'd you know?"

"No, Sir. What I mean is, not too many of the agents talk about their wives. I don't even know if they're married." He glanced at Sam's ring finger. "Is that your real wedding ring?"

He held up his hand and played with it using his thumb on the same hand. "Yep, and it's not coming off, either. Charles Finley is a married man, which makes me look even scummier in our mark's eyes, if Vargas even cares." He frowned. "That's probably why he's trying so hard to get me to sleep with Bella. It's a test, and right now I'm failing it." He sighed and dropped his toast on the plate. "I don't know how I'm going to handle this without...you know..."

"I've been told that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do in order to get the job done."

"I don't operate that way, Joseph, not anymore. And if you have a shred of self-decency, you'll never be that way, either. Otherwise, you'll wind up like Larry Sizemore or something." He visibly shook as the name rolled off his tongue. "That man is a psycho. A real object lesson in taking your work to extremes."

Joseph nodded as if he were taking notes on everything Sam said. "I don't know what you're going to do about this, Sir."

"Me neither. I know one thing. After I get out and mingle a little, I'm taking a nice long swim. Maybe it'll help me think." He smiled as he laid the newspaper on the table. "I'll see you later, Joseph."

"Have fun, S...Mr. Finley."

"Say, what do you do all day when I'm out circulating?"

"I'm working with other agents, coordinating our final plans. And I watch a lot of on-demand movies."

"You do, huh? Well, have fun, I guess." Sam dressed more casually for his jaunt to the open air shopping center, wearing a light tan suit and a light blue shirt with two buttons undone and no tie. The outfit would have suited Michael Westen better. As a matter of fact, when he strolled across the open courtyard, he saw Michael standing near a kiosk wearing nearly the same identical outfit. Only the sunglasses were different, and Sam smiled.

As he approached his friend, Sam brushed his hand casually down one pocket, feeling the small envelope still inside. It was sealed, with no markings on it, but when he passed it off to Mike, his friend would know exactly who the recipient was. They'd pulled this trick before on some of their operations overseas, and there was no reason to suspect that it wouldn't work here. Sam stopped at the kiosk, pretending to look over the merchandise while he reached into his pocket, slipped out the envelope, and handed it off to Michael.

Michael spoke softly to him. "How's it going, Sam?"

"I'm on thin ice, Mike, but skating carefully," he muttered in reply, knowing his friend knew exactly what he meant. "Tell Eve I...really...miss her."

"Will do." Michael placed the envelope in his pocket, asked the salesperson a question, and Sam made his clean getaway.

He had to clear his head and get Yvette out of his mind. He trusted Michael with his life, and he had no doubt he would deliver his note to her today. He would tell her how risky the handoff was, and that Sam loved her and missed her. For now, that was the best either of them could do.

A woman bumped into him, and despite his head being in the clouds over his wife, he had the presence of mind to check his wallet. It was still there. Then the curvaceous body turned, and under the wide brimmed hat he found a bleach blonde eyeing him over her large sunglasses. Her mouth was wide and toothy as she grinned. "Well, Mr. Finley! This is a surprise!"

"Ah, Bella. Yes, quite the surprise. I was just out shopping."

"So was I," she replied and looked down at his hand. "Looking for something for your wife?"

He decided to run with that idea and see where it went. He nodded. "Yes, yes I am. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Women always love jewelry," she purred. "Or perfume." She stepped closer, and he smelled the gardenias again. She noticed the rise of his chest as he breathed it in, and she smiled. "I can get you some of this."

"Some of what?"

"What I'm wearing. It's made from the essence of real flowers, not synthesized from chemicals. It's expensive, but worth it." She lifted her hand and her fingers reached around to the nape of his neck, making sure the scent carried from her wrist to his nose. "Isn't it just heavenly?"

"Yes, it is." He tried not to swallow too hard, because honestly, it did smell great. He wasn't sure he'd ever want Yvette to wear it; it would always remind him of this operation. He wanted the woman to take her hand off of him, but he couldn't tell her. It would make her suspicious and ruin everything. So he stood there and let her run her hand slowly down his chest, over his lapel, down, down to his waist, and around it. Her other hand she placed on his chest.

"Mr. Finley, I'm so sorry you appear to have this problem. with...your wife." She closed the distance between them and he felt his body sweating as her warm breath skirted his neck and her lips brushed his ear. She whispered, "Mr. Finley, just give me a chance and I will make you forget her, if only for a little while. You need to keep your concentration on your business." She pulled back a little and removed her sunglasses, looking him straight in the eye as she spoke softly. "Mr. Vargas is having doubts about you, and if you want to work with him, you need to...work...with...me." She nibbled on his earlobe and left scarlet lipstick on it as she pulled away. She licked her lips, parted them, and asked, "Where should I be, and when?"

"If you want to discuss business, my suite later this afternoon. Three o'clock?"

"Sounds perfect." She grinned. "I'll be there."

As she walked away, Sam wanted to scream. He felt the tingle from her touch, and he wished he could just wipe it away and forget it ever happened. But he had a job to do, and like it or not, he would have to make this look good without actually doing anything. He began to formulate a plan as he walked back to the hotel, and when he took his long swim, he hashed out the details in his mind.

"Joseph, I need you to get something for me," Sam declared when he returned to the room after his swim.

"Certainly, what is it, Sir?"

"Here's a list. I want you to have it here tonight. Oh, and get a bottle of wine from the steward. Something dry."

"Will do, Sir." He took the piece of paper that Sam gave him and left the hotel room. While Sam waited, he called her number. "Bella? Hi, it's Chuck Finley." He forced out a laugh when she repeated his name. "How about we change our...date...to seven? I'll have dinner brought up to the penthouse, and we won't be disturbed."

After his plans were made, he hit the shower to wash off the chlorine from the pool, but he could never dislodge the guilt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Bella arrived in a black dress that fit every curve and sparkled like diamonds. As they had dinner, he couldn't help looking at her attributes, but he distracted himself with analyzing how such a woman could fall under the thumb of Ingatius Vargas. She was witty, and smart, as they talked about things that didn't cover business or the art of seduction. Her laugh was warm, and when she stopped trying so hard to get into his bed, she was actually...nice. In a different time and place, she had probably been the girl next door, but she was in a different world now.

"So, Bella," Sam began as he set aside his napkin. "How does a nice girl like you get sucked into such a seamy profession?"

Bella's smile disappeared, and her posture stiffened. "I, um, really don't like to talk about that, Mr. Finley. It's ancient history." Her smile returned and she turned in her chair. She leaned forward to show off her body as she reached under the table and caressed his thigh with her hand. "Would it be alright if I called you Charles, or Chuck?"

His eyes met hers, and he swallowed. This was the point where, if he made the wrong choice, she would go running back to Vargas with her suspicions aroused and blow everything. If he made the other wrong choice, they survived another day in this charade, but he risked something greater. He glanced down at the table, then back up at her. He bought time by reaching for his glass. She watched him take a sip.

"You can call me Chuck, Bella."

"Oh good, I like that name. It rhymes with..."

Sam choked on his wine.

"Luck." She smiled. Her hand was on the move to places he'd rather it stayed away. "Chuck, I have to confess. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you so badly. More than any man I've ever seen."

"Really?"

"Really." Somehow, she'd gotten out of her chair and pressed herself against him, practically sitting in his lap. "I can't take this anymore."

"Neither can I," he said, but for a far different reason.

Her mouth captured his, and it scared him how easily he succumbed, and even scarier, he knew that now was the time to do what he tried so hard to avoid. Sam stood, gathered her in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom. After laying her on the bed, he took his time undressing. She ate it up, her desire like a fire in her eyes that threatened to burn her up if he took too long. When he was down to his underwear, he got on the bed, crawled to her and began by removing her pumps. She curled her hand around his neck and pulled him to her mouth for another kiss, wrapped herself around him, and about the time he was afraid he would have to completely throw his wedding vows out the window, she slumped in his embrace.

"Bella?" He pulled back and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and her scarlet lips hung open. She breathed, but she was unconscious.

"Oh, thank you, God." He rolled her to her side and removed himself from the bed as if it were made of nails. With the dosage of knock out drugs he'd laced in her wine, she would be out for another eight hours. Long enough to go through her things, mess up the place a little, and make it look like she'd had the time of her life. Only she wouldn't remember any of it, and he walked away with most of his self-respect intact. With Joseph's help, he created the scenario, and he let the younger man finish with the more intimate details. Joseph threw her dress over a chair, covered her body with the covers, and left the room with a smirk.

"That was a brilliant plan."

"As long as she buys it in the morning," Sam replied with a worried expression as he eyed the couch. "This is going to be one long night."

Bella awoke to a splitting headache. She opened her eyes to a new morning and found the sheets in disarray and Chuck's side of the bed was cold, but she saw the indentation in the pillow. She lazily ran her hand over it and looked around the room. Clothing was strewn everywhere. The wine bottle was empty, lying on the floor among the debris. She got up carefully, her head hammering with each movement. In the adjoining bathroom she found wet towels on the floor and the wine glasses sat on the edge of the large jacuzzi tub The water still bore traces of bubbles, and it was cold. Bella shook her head in confusion. She had no recollection at all of what happened last night, other than the amazing kisses Chuck gave her.

"Good morning, sunshine," Sam greeted her with fake cheer as she emerged from the bedroom clothed in last night's dress, shoving things back into her purse. "Want something to eat?"

"Um, no thanks." She looked at the spread on his dining room table and licked her lips. It was all very tempting, as much as the man who sat with the morning paper eyeing her. "I hope you don't think me rude, but I really need to get going." She pressed a hand to her head. "Last night was..."

Sam threw his paper down, popped out of his seat, and approached her, grasping her by the arms. "It was fantastic, wasn't it? You were like, wow, an animal, Bella!" He dared to kiss her cheek. "You were right, when I was with you, I forgot all about Mrs. Chuck Finley." He grinned. "You're really good at what you do, Bella."

"Thank you, Chuck. I'll tell Mr. Vargas that...that things are still on."

"You do that." He turned on the charm. "Will I...see you again?"

"Perhaps," she smiled, but he could see behind her eyes that last night threw her off. She didn't know what to make of what may or may not have happened. He was hoping she'd stay so he could plant the seeds and convince her they had a wild night, because her not knowing for sure left the door open to come back again and try when things were not quite in Sam's favor. He couldn't let that happen. As it was, he had a lot to confess.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The moment Michael saw Sam walking toward him on the boardwalk, he knew things were not going well. He and Sam had been through a lot of missions together, and Michael could read just from the way he walked with hands in the pockets of his khakis, his eyes shifting around him, that he was uneasy with the flow of the operation. He could have told Sam: as a matter of fact, he did. But it didn't matter, because he would have still taken this mission and beaten himself up over breaking his vows.

_How would I handle this situation? _There was no question that Michael would do what it took to get the job done. But afterward...would he be able to live with himself knowing he effectively cheated on his wife? Things were different now. When he and Fi weren't married, there was no guilt, although if he'd really given it any thought, there should have been. Other people were hurt in any case, sometimes bad people who deserved it. But if he'd taken the assignment, as he first thought he would...he wasn't sure he could confidently say that he could do it without feeling like Sam was now.

"Sam..." Michael didn't know what to say.

"Mike." Sam looked out to the beach, staring at the water. He couldn't look his friend in the eye.

"Hey, why don't we go get a drink?"

"Huh? Sure." Sam turned and followed Michael to a bar that they visited very infrequently. They could talk and not have anyone recognize them, unlike at Carlito's.

"Two beers," Michael ordered for Sam and himself. He took a swig and asked, "How did things go with what's her name?"

"Bella." Sam downed half his beer in two shots. "I'd rather not talk about her." _Not until I've had a few more of these babies to give me a dose of courage._

"That bad, huh? Drinking isn't going to solve your problem, you know."

"It was terrible, Mike." He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. The server saw his bottle was empty and brought him another. "Thanks." He started it with a good swig, set it down heavily on the bar, and leaned over to Michael again. "Now, nothing, like...serious...happened. She kissed me, and...and touched me, but that's about it. I swear!"

Michael smiled. "You pulled an East Berlin on her, didn't you?"

"You betcha. When she woke up this morning, she had no idea what had happened, but Joseph and I made it look like it was a good time."

"So what's the problem, then? There was no...contact..."

"I kissed her...well, she kissed me..." He waved a hand and drained his beer. "It doesn't matter! The point is, I did what I did, and I'm not proud of it!"

"Sometimes we have to do bad things..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, spare me. Maybe that works to help you sleep at night, Mikey, but not me." He paused and picked at the label on his empty bottle. "You know, I warned Eve this might happen, and I swore that I would do everything I could to keep it from happening. You know what she said? You know what that beautiful angel of mine said?"

"No, Sam. What'd she say?"

"She looked at me with those gorgeous, natural ocean blue eyes, and she said, 'Whatever you do, I'll forgive.' Like it was really that simple." He paused and sniffed. "She had no idea what she was saying, Mike. No idea at all."

The server came around, but Michael gave her a signal to cut Sam off. She nodded and walked away, leaving his empty sitting in front of him.

"Sam, Yvette is a smart woman. And she's got a lot of faith in you. She knows whatever happens in the field has no reflection on your marriage."

"You think she thinks that? Or is she really just being naive? Sticking her head in the sand, not wanting to acknowledge the dirty side of our business."

"You'll have to talk to her about that yourself. But know this, Sam. She's not going to let this break you up. The only one who can do that is you. Forgive yourself, Sam, and move on."

"I wish I could talk to Tom about this. Guess I'm gonna have to wait until it's all over, and then I'll probably have a truck load of crap to scrape off myself." He sighed heavily and hung his head.

"Just one more week, Sam."

"I hope I can survive it."

"Other than dealing with your guilty conscience, is there anything else going on?"

"Nope. Just playing the waiting game. Before I got here, Vargas called. He wanted to meet me for dinner tonight, and then we're going to Bienvenue. I won't be able to pull the same trick twice. He's going to have one of those rooms waiting, and a girl, and..." He paused and looked at Mike with pain in his eyes. "I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

"Sam, just hang in there. I'll see what I can do behind the scenes." Michael said goodbye to his friend and felt his chest tighten in sympathy as he watched Sam walk back to the hotel. While he didn't always understand the depth of Sam's devotion to Yvette, he had to admire him for it. Tonight would be the deal breaker if Sam didn't perform to Vargas's expectations. If he choked...Michael closed his eyes and shook away the cold dread that washed over him.

"Pearce. We've got to talk. Now. I'm on my way to your office."

By the time he arrived, he was hard pressed to keep his voice down. "Sam is a wreck right now, and unless you figure out a way to wrap this up tonight, you're going to lose him. He's going to blow his cover, and he'll be dead!"

"He knew what he was getting into. His wife knew..."

"I told you not to give him this assignment, no matter what he said!"

"It was his choice, not yours."

Michael rested his knuckles on the desk and stood over her. "I have never in all my years of working with Sam see him fold like this. You need to pull him from this job now."

"We're in the middle of this. If anyone else takes over..."

"He's done, even if I have to go in there myself..."

"No! I have an idea, but I want to..."

"The only good idea is pulling Sam out of there!"

Pearce got out of her seat and stood eye to eye with Michael. "You don't get to decide that. I do. I'm the director of this mission, and if I want to call in another agent, I will. If I want to call in an agent's wife to act as his mistress so he can finish his assignment, I can do that, too."

Michael backed off, his face registering shock. "Mistress? You want Yvette to pose as his mistress?"

A slow smile crossed Agent Pearce's face. "Yes, Michael. After my last conversation with Sam, I knew he wasn't taking this well. I don't normally do something like this, but she had that one stint in DC, and from what I understand she played her part quite well. Playing mistress to a man she's wild about, and married to, should be a walk in the park."

"This is crazy." Michael shook his head.

"Crazy like a fox," Pearce answered with a smug expression. She got on the phone, punched in a few numbers and spoke, "Hi, it's Agent Pearce. Yvette? Remember what we talked about? It's on for tonight." She listened a few moments and nodded. "Okay, as soon as you've got everything arranged, call me. We'll have a limousine pick you up at your house and take you to the hotel where Sam is staying." She smiled. "I haven't told him. I think he's going to be in for a very big surprise." She let out a soft laugh. "You're welcome, Yvette. 'Bye."

"You're really going to do this?"

"We're kind of limited in our options right now, Michael. This is the only option, to be quite frank." She smiled at him. "Don't worry, I have a lot of confidence in Sam and Yvette, and I think they'll handle this perfectly."

Michael shook his head. "You better be right, because if this all blows up...infidelity is going to be the least of Sam's problems."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The limousine pulled up to Sam and Yvette's house. "It's here, Yvette!" Pam exclaimed as she ran upstairs. "Hurry up! Your chariot is here, and your man awaits!"

"Just finishing up."

Pam was giddy with excitement, but she stopped in the doorway to the bedroom and her jaw dropped. "Oh, Yvette, you look positively...hot! Like a modern day Audrey Hepburn. Only blonde."

Yvette grinned at Pam's reflection in the full length mirror. "Does it make me look mistressy?" She pulled at the deep blue dress that clung to her every curve. It stopped a few inches above her knee, something foreign to her. She fluffed up her natural curls and rearranged a few strands to hang down around her face.

Pam laughed. "Oh yeah. You go work it girl, and have a good time with Sam."

"The kids..."

"Are no problem. Zoe and Espie will have a blast together. And Samuel will be no trouble at all!" She gave Yvette a light embrace. "I'm afraid to hug you too hard. I might wrinkle you!" She released Yvette and shooed her toward the door. "Go on, now! Get out of here!"

Tom hauled her luggage to the waiting car. The driver stood patiently beside the open trunk, and when Tom came around, he grinned. "Well, Michael. This is a surprise!"

"Shh, don't tell Yvette I'm her driver, and her right hand man," Michael replied with a finger against his lips. "Pearce is letting me go along to make sure things..."

"Oh, no need to say any more!" Tom grinned briefly, then turned serious. "Tell Sam we're praying for him. We have been all along, after Yvette told us that he was having trouble."

"She didn't get into detail, did she?"

Tom shook his head. "No, she'd never do that! Just told us enough to know that he needs help of a heavenly kind. Take care of her. Take care of them both."

"I will." Michael nodded. "Thanks for taking the kids for them, Tom."

"No problem." He turned to Yvette and gave her a quick hug. "We'll see you in a week, right?"

"Yeah, that's the plan..." She turned toward the car, saw her driver, and gaped. "Michael?"

He smiled. "Yep, it's me. We better get moving, because Sam has no idea you're coming, and I was able to get him to stick around the hotel this afternoon. He's probably wearing himself out with laps in the pool."

"Well, we don't want him to get too wiped out. He'll need his energy for tonight." She smiled at her double entendre. She had every intention of accompanying him to his meeting with Vargas, and afterward, they would have a meeting of their own. She just hoped that her arrival wouldn't throw off Vargas and make him suspicious.

Michael pulled the limo up to the entrance, and a doorman opened up the back door for Yvette. She unfolded her slim legs from the car, took his hand with her gloved one, and stood. She had to tilt her head back to see past the wide brim of her hat and gaze through the glass canopy. Somewhere up there, on the top floor, her man waited.

"Thank you, Sir," she said with a smile that melted his heart.

"I'll bring your bags in, Miss..."

"Waverley. Kathleen Waverley, of the Hampton Waverleys." She peered at him through her sunglasses. From deep down in her past, she dusted off her clipped English accent and used it to full effect. "No matter, dear. Could you please direct me to Charles Finley's accommodations?"

"Mr. Charles Finley? I believe he is staying in the penthouse, Miss Waverley."

"Ah, always the best for Charles." She smiled and removed her sunglasses. "I shall check in with the front desk then, just to be sure he is on the premises. Thank you, darling." She patted his cheek and moved forward into the lobby. The doorman hefted her two large suitcases and hurried after her, leaving Michael behind to gape and shake his head.

His earpiece chirped. "How's Operation Love Nest going," Pearce asked.

"I forgot how she handled DC." He paused. "She is good."

"I told you."

"I'll talk to you later." He cut the connection, gave the limo keys to the valet, and said, "Mr. Finley will be down at 6. We'll need the car then."

"Yes, Sir."

No matter how convincing Michael thought Yvette was, there was no way she was getting past the front desk without a pass key to the penthouse. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but Mr. Finley does not have any female visitors on his schedule."

"I am not just a visitor! I'm his m..." She smiled and the words oozed out of her mouth. "A very good friend."

"I'm sorry. He doesn't have you on his list, Miss Waverley."

"Well, call his suite and inform him I have arrived." She crossed her arms and tapped her stiletto heeled foot for added effect. "I can assure you if Mr. Finley discovers that you have kept me waiting here for more than five minutes, he will be very angry. He might even check out and go to a more...hospitable...establishment."

_Oh yeah, she is good. _Michael stood nearby witnessing the exchange, admiring her coolness.

The manager behind the desk looked stricken at the thought. He had a pulse on the penthouse, and he knew just how much Mr. Finley had already shelled out on his stay. He could not afford to lose such a good paying customer. The ill will generated could be devastating if word got around. He let out a deep cleansing breath, and said, "Miss Waverley, I apologize for the inconvenience. I'll have Anthony take your bags up to the penthouse, and while you freshen up, I will have someone send for Mr. Finley. He's at the pool."

"No problem," Michael said with an amicable smile. "Miss Waverley, I'll tell Mr. Finley that you're here."

"Thank you, Michael. You're such a sweetheart." She smiled warmly at him and turned to follow the bellhop carrying her bags.

Michael watched her sashay to the elevator. She had the moves down, and if she wasn't careful, Sam would never make his dinner date with Vargas. He nodded to the manager and hurried out to the courtyard where the Olympic sized pool took up a good chunk of it, and loungers and a bar covered the rest of the area. He found Sam reclining on a lounger, nursing a mojito. He wore a serious expression that Michael knew signaled that he was depressed. Yvette couldn't have come at a better time.

"Mr. Finley, my name is Michael." He blocked the sun and Sam squinted up at him.

"Mike?" He glanced around, relieved to see that there were no people lounging nearby. Still, he kept his voice down. "What are you doing here?"

As he spoke, Michael checked the area around them. "I brought Miss Kathleen from your house. She's settling into the penthouse as we speak."

"Kathleen?" His expression grew even more puzzled. Then it hit him. Kathleen was Yvette's middle name. "No, Mike, you didn't..."

"Actually, it was Pearce's idea."

"No." Sam shook his head vehemently and stood. "No, you are not going to use her in this fiasco!"

Michael leaned closer to him and spoke softly. "It's too late, Sam. She's here, and she's doing an awesome job so far." Michael smiled. "Relax. She's playing your mistress, your very hot mistress, so you'll look like an even bigger scumbag in Vargas's eyes, and you won't have to subject yourself to what's her name..."

"Bella."

"Yeah, her." Michael jerked his head as if dismissing her. "Or any of those other women he wants to throw at you."

"You really think a mistress is going to make him stop trying to test me?"

"It's worth a try."

"Okay, Mike. But if she gets hurt...or our marriage goes south because of this...I'll know who to thank for it." Sam picked up his towel and headed for the elevator that would take him upstairs. On the one hand, he couldn't wait to see Yvette. On the other, he doubted she would even want to look at him after he told her what he'd had to do so far.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Yvette wouldn't let on, but she was nervous. After the bellhop let her into the penthouse, she stood in the foyer, unsure of what to do next. _Should I wait for Sam to come up? And when he does, should I greet him with a big kiss and a..._

"Hello, can I help you?"

She gasped and turned to face a young man she didn't know. "Wh-who are you?"

"My name is Joseph, ma'am." He stood with hands folded in front of him, smiling at her, taking her in inch by inch. "I'm Mr. Finley's valet."

"Oh, Joseph." She'd been informed of Sam's assistant. She smiled, stepped down to his level, and held out a gloved hand. "Joseph, my name is Kathleen Waverley. Very nice to meet you." When he took her hand and shook it, she added softly, "I'm really Sam's wife, Yvette."

"Ah, the...beautiful...Mrs. Axe." Joseph's smile amped up, more out of embarrassment than anything else, because until she introduced herself, he was thinking she was another one of Vargas's women. "It's a great pleasure to meet the woman whom Mr. Axe has been agonizing over for the past week."

"I don't follow you."

"Ma'am, he's had to deal with a lot of...pressure...from another woman. It came down to him having to pull off a major ruse to avoid going to bed with her." He grinned. "It was a beautiful plan, and it worked!" A small chuckle escaped him. "You don't have a thing to worry about, Mrs. Axe. Other than Bella kissing him, nothing happened."

"She kissed him?" Her eyebrow rose.

"Yeah, but I could tell he wasn't enjoying it, not one bit." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Just know this, Mrs. Axe: his loyalty caused him a lot of pain to stay true to you. I suspect that's why you're here, so he doesn't have to endure that any more."

"You're quite right, Joseph." She gave him a small smile. "Now, you better start calling me Miss Waverley, or there will be trouble if you spout off my real name at the wrong time!"

"Yes, Miss Waverley," he replied, trying it on for size. "I guess that's why I'm still the newbie agent. I've got a lot to learn."

The door opened, and Sam entered the suite. Yvette turned slowly. From under the brim of her hat, she saw that he was stunned, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. He was glad to see her, but not sure he wanted her in the middle of this situation. She knew him well enough to know what was going through his mind.

Joseph cleared his throat. "Sir, if you don't mind, I think I will, um, take the afternoon off."

"Go right ahead, Joseph. I think Mr. Finley and I have some business to discuss." She smiled at Sam, her ruby red lips beckoning him without saying a word.

"Yeah...you go on. I'll need you back here at 1700 hours." He couldn't take his eyes off her, and for the first time in several days, he didn't have to feel guilty about it.

"Oh, make it 1730," Yvette said with a giggle.

"Yes, Miss Waverley," Joseph said and winked at her before hurrying past Sam and out the door.

Silence fell like a thick fog between them. Finally, Sam checked the door to make sure it was locked and slowly stepped into the room. His eyes roved from the hat down to her dark blue patent leather heels.

"Wow. You...look...fabulous."

"I had a little help from Mia, and the CIA pocketbook."

He shook his head. "Even naked, I'd still mean it." He reached out and touched her arm, and she threw herself into his embrace. Their lips met, crushed together as if they were two thirsty souls who could only find sustenance in each other, which was true enough when it came to their love. They were left breathless and wanting more when they parted. Sam wouldn't let her out of his grip, and she didn't mind.

"I missed you so much."

"You don't know how hard this week has been. Eve..."

"Kathleen." She whispered more from the pent-up passion than any need for security. "I'm Kathleen, remember?"

"Can I call you Kate? Or Kat?"

"I like Kat." She smiled. "Because this Kat really wants nothing more than to _pounce_ on you right now!"

Sam laughed and released her from his embrace, grabbed her hand, and pulled her toward the bedroom. "I think we can arrange that. Come on kitty kat!"

Yvette's laughter floated in the air as she trotted after him into the room.

When they'd had their fill of each other, they lay so close together, it was as if they were one body. Sam closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head. He sighed deeply, a sigh that told Yvette so much.

"What's wrong, sweetheart," she asked as she raised her head and looked at him.

"Eve...I told you this could get dicey." She nodded and urged him silently to go on. "I...there was this woman...I had to..."

"Shhh, Joseph told me all about it. You kissed."

"But it was worse than that! When she kissed me, it was...I mean, I resisted sleeping with her, but the pictures in my mind..."

"Oh honey, I know you couldn't help it." She placed her hands along the sides of his face and looked deeply into his eyes. "I told you I would forgive you, and I do. I know where your heart was, even if your head was somewhere else." She kissed him, and the heat she generated made him forget everything but her.

"You're too good for me," he whispered when they came up for air. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, Eve, but I thank God for you."

"I could say the same thing about you," she smiled as she ran her hands over him. "I love you, Sam."

"Ohhhh, I love you too, Eve." Lost in their passion, they forgot their cover, but no one was around to hear.

When Michael saw Sam and Yvette coming toward him, it was all he could do to keep from smiling. He held his breath and let it out slowly as they practically glided across the lobby. Sam was dressed in a charcoal gray double breasted suit with a white shirt and deep purple tie. It perfectly matched the color of Yvette's form-fitting dress. Her skirt billowed as she walked on high heels that brought the top of her head nearly even with Sam's nose. She usually tucked neatly beneath his chin. Her hair was up in a fancy updo with the curls cascading down. She was stunning, and apparently he wasn't the only one who thought so. Others in the lobby stopped to watch the handsome couple pass.

"Good evening, Mr. Finley. Your car is waiting. Miss Waverley, so good to see you again." He opened the door and they got into the limo. Before closing the door, Michael added, "You look like a million bucks. Both of you."

"Thanks, Michael." Yvette grinned.

"Hey, no ogling my mistress, pal. Just get us to the restaurant on time!" He winked at Michael before he closed the door, and laughed.

Michael grinned from ear to ear. It was good to see Sam back to his old self.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Vargas had to keep himself from gaping when he saw Finley arrive with a woman on his arm. He shouldn't have been surprised. The way Bella talked about him, he got the impression that his new business associate was a charming man. However, he was more than a little disappointed that Finley hadn't picked one of his girls. Vargas waited for them to arrive at the table and stood, a smile hiding his unease. He didn't like doing business with strangers, especially women. They had a tendency to blab under pressure.

"Mr. Vargas, may I present to you my...mistress...Miss Kathleen Waverley." He paused and let it sink in. "Kat...this is Mr. Ignatius Vargas, my business associate."

Yvette grinned and offered her hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Vargas."

"Charles didn't tell me that he was bringing a date tonight."

"Well, it was as much a surprise to me," Sam replied with a grin.

"I decided to fly in from London and surprise Charles. I was bored in the City, all the same old people. Miami is much more exciting!" She gave Sam a look that threatened to turn him into jelly right there.

Vargas swallowed, the naked passion between them unmistakeable. All through dinner, he watched them interact, and it became obvious why Finley wasn't interested in Bella. Over their after-dinner drinks, he asked, "Miss Waverley, do you dance?"

"I do," she answered. "But I am afraid that is one of the few areas in which Charles lacks."

"I'm not that bad," he retorted, giving Yvette a strange look. He wasn't sure where she was taking this conversation, and he wasn't sure she knew where Vargas was taking it either. All during dinner the man was eyeing her as if she were dessert. He didn't like it. It was nearly enough to make him wish she hadn't come to rescue him from the pit of vice. He rested his hand on her thigh, and she reached for him and gave his hand a squeeze. She blinked twice, a little signal they devised a long time ago to tell the other person that they were okay.

"In any case, I thought we could go to a little salsa club I own in South Beach," Vargas suggested with a smile aimed at Yvette.

"So sorry, I much prefer a waltz or a foxtrot." Yvette replied with a bit of laughter.

"I can teach you. You'll love it," Vargas countered as he reached out and took her hand in his.

Sam watched him playing with her hand, trying his best to make Sam angry or jealous, or both. _He's testing me again. _Sam refused to react negatively. He would just make sure that Vargas had very little, if any, dance floor time with his wife. He wrapped his arm around Yvette's waist, grinned, and placed a kiss on her neck. "I'm afraid we're going to have to make this an early night, Ignatius. We made plans to go boating tomorrow."

Vargas's face fell. "But Kathleen only just arrived."

She replied with a gracious smile. "I wanted to see the coastline from something besides an airplane window, so in typical Charles fashion, he rented a boat!" They laughed, and she turned so she was nose to nose with him. "He is so impulsive. I love that!" She placed a light kiss on his lips.

"I see." Vargas pulled away from the table and sat back in his chair, watching the Sam and Yvette show with growing curiosity. "How does your wife find your impulsiveness, Mr. Finley?"

Sam turned to him with a smug expression. "Does your wife know everything about you, Mr. Vargas? How does she feel about your...business?" He couldn't help getting in that dig, even if he risked putting their operation in jeopardy.

"My wife thinks I'm in the import/export business." He replied with an equally smug expression. "She doesn't care what I do, as long as it keeps her in jewelry, designer clothes, and villas all over the world."

The man sounded bitter. Sam wasn't sure if it was a plea for sympathy or part of an act designed to melt Miss Waverley's heart. By the way Yvette held his hand under the table, he knew she wasn't buying it either.

"Please, do me the honor of accompanying me to the club for a little while? It's still early."

She ignored the look on Sam's face and turned to Vargas. "Perhaps for an hour...or two. I so love to dance."

Vargas grinned and took her hand, helping her to her feet. He tucked her arm under his and led her out of the restaurant with Sam following closely behind. He shot daggers at the man, and when Yvette looked back, he questioned her with his eyes. She was getting in too deep, and Sam was afraid that before the night was over, things would not be going well.

When Michael saw Vargas coming out of the restaurant with Yvette's hand on his forearm, tucked closely, he glanced at Sam and gave him a steely eyed look. Sam replied with a subtle shake of his head, warning Michael not to make a scene. Instead, he performed his job and let Vargas and Yvette into the back of the limo, with Sam entering last. Yvette sat between them, but Michael noticed she released Vargas and scooted closer to Sam when they were settled in. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Something was going on, but for now, everything seemed to be under control.

They arrived at the club and got instant access thanks to being with Vargas. The lights were low but colorful, evoking a carnival atmosphere. The music had a definitive beat that took them over the moment they walked in the door, and their bodies moved with the music as they meandered through the crowd. Vargas led them to a semi-secluded area consisting of a circular red couch, a round table in the center, and filmy curtains shrouding it from prying eyes.

"Drinks for my friends," Vargas ordered, and the server quickly returned with their favorite libations. "Now, Kathleen, how about that dance?"

She glanced at Sam and saw the reluctance in his eyes. "Perhaps it would be better if you found a...friend...and you could show us. Then Charles and I could try it together."

"Bella," Vargas said as he looked up and saw her standing in the opening. "What are you doing here?"

"You told me that Charles would be here tonight, and that I was to be his date." She looked down at Yvette and glared at her.

If she expected Yvette to flinch, Bella was sorely mistaken. "I am afraid that Charles is already taken, and has been for quite some time," Yvette shot across Bella's bow as she clasped Sam's upper arm to herself, and smiled in victory because she had her man. The tramp would have to go looking for her fun elsewhere.

"I suppose his wife would agree to that."

Yvette still smiled, but her words were like ice covered with a creamy accent. "His wife is of no concern. And neither are you."

Sam pretended to be focused on his drink, but he saw the look Yvette gave the woman. It was dangerous, but he still felt a surge of pride. He turned to her and in front of Bella and Vargas gave her a kiss. As it deepened, he felt for the edge of the table with his leg and set his glass down, then continued making out with Yvette while the two watched with increasing discomfort.

"Bella," Vargas cleared his throat. "Would you care to dance?"

"I would love to, Mr. Vargas." They quickly melded into the mass on the dance floor, leaving the two lovers alone.

Sam pulled away, smiling at the fact that he'd left her breathless. "Miss Waverley, you are such a tease." He chuckled. "Did you see the look on his face? He wanted you, but now he knows he doesn't stand a chance." He sat close to her and rested his arm around her atop the seat.

"I'm glad. He was giving me the creeps. I don't know how I ever managed to keep anything down at dinner!" She shivered, and he pulled his arm tighter around her.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Oh, Sam, now I know why it was so difficult for you to play your part and still rebuff that woman." She watched Vargas and Bella on the dance floor. There was barely any space for air between them. "I forgive you even more." She smiled.

"Thanks." He rested his forehead on her shoulder for a moment, then raised his head to stare at her lips. "This music, it really does something to me. How about you?"

"I wish I could get out there and dance like them."

"There are so many people out there, I don't think anyone would notice if there were a couple of people klutzing their way around a salsa."

Yvette laughed. "That's hardly encouraging, dear."

"I don't need any encouragement," Sam spoke against her ear as he ran his hand up her leg, which she'd crossed over her other knee.

"Obviously not." She stood abruptly, took his hand, and led him to the dance floor.

They soon found themselves pressed into the crowd, and it didn't matter that they had no idea what they were doing. There was little room to do the dance properly anyway. It was just a mass of gyrating bodies, bumping into each other and their partners. The lights flashed and changed colors, adding to the excitement on the floor. Sam caught sight of Vargas and Bella. They were too wrapped up in each other to care about him and Yvette.

Sam pulled her out of the mess and far enough away to speak into her ear. "Let's get out of here. I think I've had enough of this for one night."

"Awww, are you tired, Charles?"

"Tired of this charade. I just want to be with you."

"Well then, let's go back to the hotel, run a nice warm bath, and..." She whispered the rest in his ear as he steered her out of the club. By the time Michael caught sight of them and opened the door, Sam was grinning and they were laughing.

Before he got the vehicle moving, Michael raised the privacy curtain, closing off the view of Sam and Yvette entwined on the back seat. He smiled. It was going to be a hot night, despite the air conditioning in the limo.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"You look great, again," Sam said to Yvette as they walked toward the chartered boat that awaited them in the marina. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her.

"Thank you, Charles." She grinned.

It was then that Sam knew they weren't alone. He dragged his attention away from Yvette and looked ahead. On the dock stood Vargas and Bella, both wearing shorts and casual clothing, smiling at them. Bella's eyes still looked sharply at her competition. Vargas's eyes still held a shade of suspicion.

"Well, this is a surprise. How'd you know where we would be," Sam asked.

"The concierge at your hotel was kind enough to tell me where you rented the boat." His smile turned cool. "Don't be so shocked, Mr. Finley. I do a lot of business with all the major hotels in this city. They in turn assist me when I need information."

"I see." A sudden chill ran down Sam's spine, despite the warm breeze. He put on a bright smile and said, "Well, you might as well join us. Maybe we can get some fishing in while we're out there."

"Oh dear, Charles. You do not expect me to handle one of those squirmy little worms, do you?"

His laugh was genuine, because he knew how Yvette felt about fishing. "Don't worry, my dear. No worms involved. We've got mackerel, and we're going for the big guys...marlins."

Yvette nodded, glad to be off the hook, so to speak. "Do you fish, um...Beulah, was it?"

"Bella," she replied with a stony gaze. "And no, I don't fish. I eat them, though."

"So sorry, Bella."

Bella nodded wordlessly.

"Have you ever caught a marlin, Ignatius?"

"No, I haven't, Charles. Have you?"

"Once." Sam smiled. "It was quite the fight. It sort of reminded me of my business, how sometimes I have to do a lot of negotiating with my clients before everyone is happy." They boarded the boat and he said, "Aren't you glad things went so smoothly with us?" Once everyone was settled, the boat pulled away from the dock and picked up speed as they headed out to the ocean.

Vargas hesitated. "Charles, I have something to ask you."

Sam sat on a bench seat with Yvette, his arm still around her, and said, "Go for it."

"Would it be an issue if I asked you to provide the women a little earlier than we agreed?"

Sam's eyebrow raised. "The visas are still in processing..."

"Charles, I don't normally worry about such things. There are ways of getting the women here in an expedient manner." He sighed. "I think it's sort of...quaint...how you want to deal with human flesh all in the confines of the law even as you break it." He stared at Sam. "I need those women before the weekend. Friday, to be exact."

"Really. Well, I'll have to contact my associate in Bangkok. He's been assisting me with all the overseas transactions." Sam stood and pulled out his phone. "I'll be right back." He pecked Yvette on the cheek and spoke with a silky tone as he stood. "Keep my seat warm, eh baby?"

Yvette laughed while she caressed his backside. "Certainly, Charles."

Sam went down into the cabin and quickly dialed using the secure phone. Pearce answered on the second ring. "Pearce."

"Pearce, it's...Chuck Finley." He was too close to Vargas to use his real name. "We've got a problem. Vargas wants his women by Friday."

"That only gives us a couple of days!"

"I know! Is everything in place?'

"Almost all of our agents are here, so you may be short a few."  
>"No, we've got to have them all!" He said it loud enough for Vargas to hear.<p>

"Sam, we're trying. The logistics are a nightmare for some of these agents." She paused. "Is there any way to stall him?"

"Yeah," he answered softly, then turned up the volume of his voice. "What? Are you serious? Ten g's? No way, we are not paying that...oh yeah, yeah, well, we'll see about that."

"Sam, what are you doing?"  
>He moved deeper into the cabin and closed himself in a bedroom in the bow. "Sorry, I had to make it look good in front of Vargas."<p>

"Does Michael know about this?"

"No. I just found out about it myself. We're on a chartered boat off the coast of Miami. Vargas was waiting for us at the dock. He found out we were going for a cruise, and where we chartered the boat." He shook his head. "I'm not feeling good about this. You better work on getting those agents fast, because I'm not sure he'll be willing to take the deal I'm about to offer him."

"Be careful, Sam."

"We will."

"If you need anything, just call. And let me know when and where he wants to finish the transaction."

"Will do. Thanks." He stuffed the phone back into his shorts and returned to the deck. A conversation had obviously been going on, but when he stepped on deck it stopped and all eyes were on him. "My associate has informed me that it can be arranged, but because I have to put a rush on everything, it's going to cost you more."

"I see." He paused. "How much more are we talking about?"

"Ten g's per woman." Sam was hoping to make him think twice with that figure.

"That is quite...steep."

"I have a lot of officials to take care of. Transportation costs. You know how it is."

Vargas looked deep in thought. "Perhaps five thousand per woman?"

"No, that won't work, my man in Bangkok knows it has to be at least eight." Sam held out his hands. "Come on Vargas, we had a deal here and now you expect me to just change up things? This cuts into my take. No, it's worse than that, if I have to eat these extra costs, I'm payin' out of my own pocket for this so-called deal." Sam shook his head. He was on a roll. He pointed at Vargas. "And it's a matter of trust. Suddenly you want to rush this job, and I have to start thinking, what's this guy up to? What's he trying to pull? We had an agreement!"

Vargas didn't like being called onto the carpet, especially in front of the women. Looking uncomfortable, he said, "I do understand. Perhaps we can talk this over while we fish?"

"Great idea." He turned to Yvette. "Kat?"

"No thank you, Charles. I think I will go to the bow and get some sun. Living in the City has turned me a terrible shade of white!"

"If you don't mind, I'll join you," Bella said reluctantly, but it was either that or listen to the men talk business and fling bait all over the deck.

While Yvette and Bella baked on the bow, Sam and Vargas fished off the stern. Yvette was more than a little surprised that Bella hadn't made a move to eliminate her. She had plenty of opportunity to make it look as if she'd accidentally slipped off the boat, hit her head, and drowned. Yvette rose up on her elbows and studied the woman. Bella must have felt her eyes on her, because she lifted her sunglasses and stared at Yvette.

"What."

Yvette smiled warmly. "I am sorry, Bella. I know you have become rather...smitten...with Charles, but I am afraid he only has eyes for me." She paused and glanced at the woman's body. "I can see why you think you can have any man you want. And I would wager that you usually get what you want, so it rankles you that you cannot have Charles."

"Whatever."

Yvette's smile wore off and she took on a sympathetic look as she rolled to her stomach. "I am sorry, Bella. It is not easy being a woman held captive, is it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ahhh, denial. I know, Bella. In my own way, I am also being held. I love a man who loves me, but...how does Mr. Vargas feel about you?"

A veil fell from Bella's eyes as she rolled onto her stomach, resting on her elbows, and answered, "I love that man, but to him, I'm just a...a business acquisition." She said the words so coldly, it pricked Yvette's soul.

"If you are unhappy with him, why not leave?"

"Where would I go? He owns everything, my clothes, my car, my apartment...and my life." She shook her head. "What little I get in return from him normally makes it worthwhile." She sighed and hung her head, then turned pain filled eyes toward Yvette. "When those women arrive, he'll probably choose one of them to be his latest flavor, and I'll become one of his working girls." She snorted. "Who am I kidding? I already dance for him at the club and take customers..."

Yvette placed a hand on her arm. "How terribly tragic! Bella, you have to decide before it is too late. If I were you, I would choose freedom at all costs."

Bella looked at her, amazement in her eyes. "Why should you care, Kathleen?"

"I suspect that you and I share a common history. We both got involved with men of wealth and power who looked at us as property, not women with hearts and emotions. We both fell in love..."

"But that's where things are different. Charles obviously loves you back. My god, the man was all over you last night! Ignatius used to be that way, but now I'm just a prop for him when he needs to impress a client, or...entertain them." Her bottom lip twitched. "Charles was...is, charming. No matter what he's doing, or who he's dealing, I can tell he's got a good heart underneath it." She glanced at Yvette. "But Kath, I wouldn't count on him ever giving up his wife and marrying you. They never do."

"I am not concerned about that, Bella." Yvette smiled, safe in the truth behind their charade. "What we have is good enough for now."

"You're one lucky woman, anyway."

"I know." Yvette grinned.

They heard a lot of shouting from the back of the boat. "What on earth..." Yvette stood and hung on to the railing.

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know." She carefully made her way to the back of the boat, her long-remembered sea legs helping her to maneuver. When she arrived, she found Sam and Vargas hanging onto one fishing pole that was bent almost to the breaking point. The line was taut and disappeared under the rolling sea.

"No, ease off a little, let him think he's winning, then pull him in a bit," Sam instructed Vargas, who controlled the reel. "Don't take your eye off him! You've got him! He's yours, man. You just have to let him get the fight out and hope the line doesn't break first."

"You know quite a bit about catching the big one."

"Yeah, well, our business is kind of like fishing. There's strategy involved, and you just have to know how to outsmart the other guy."

Vargas nodded. "Agreed!" He strained against the force of the big fish, and Sam took more of the pulling work himself. With the two of them, the fish suddenly found itself unevenly matched.

"Reel him in a little!"

Vargas pulled in some of the line. A dark blue head came out of the water, and the fish jumped in the air before diving again. "Wow, he's a big one! He's yours, just keep working him to exhaustion."

Vargas chuckled. "But the question is, can we do it before he exhausts us?"

"That, my friend, is the big question for a lot of things in life."

Yvette and Bella stood on the deck watching their men wrestle the marlin until it finally gave in and surrendered. The first mate helped them get it aboard, took some pictures, and packed the fish in ice to preserve it. Then the captain turned the boat around and headed back to the marina.

"So, what will you do with that monstrosity," Yvette asked them.

"Well, it's his fish!" Sam pointed to Vargas. "I just helped out a little bit." He gave her a cocked grin.

"Thank you, my friend." Vargas shook Sam's hand. "It was quite a fight. I intend to have it stuffed, put on my wall, and it will be a constant reminder of our business together." He was in a triumphant mood and slapped Sam good-naturedly on the back. "We should go out and celebrate tonight!"

"Sure, why not?" Sam gave Yvette a look. The last thing he wanted to do was spend another evening with the man, talking about inconsequential things, building a business relationship with him and hoping that he wouldn't try to take Yvette away for a little...socializing...and leave him alone with Bella.

"Maybe this time, we should go someplace more casual," Bella suggested. "There's this great little restaurant across from the Victor."

"Oh, we've been there." Sam smiled at Yvette and kissed her cheek, remembering the first time they had a night out after Samuel was born. The evening turned into an overnighter, thanks to Maddie and his dad. "Great ocean view." But he didn't look as if he was interested in the ocean at the moment.

"Sounds like a wonderful plan. We don't have to dress up so much." Vargas sighed and lay his head back against the seat. Bella placed her hand on his chest, and he grabbed it and held it there, caressing it as if he truly loved her.

Yvette saw it, and her heart went out to Bella, who leaned into him and took what she could get for the time being. All the while, her face wore a conflicted look. Obviously what Yvette said made an impact, causing her think about what was most important to her.

When they reached the marina, they made plans to meet at the restaurant at six thirty. Sam and Yvette walked away together, hand in hand, and he stole a glance at Vargas and Bella. The man stood near his catch, proud as could be of his accomplishment, while Bella watched them with a longing in her eyes.

"What did you say to her, Eve?"

"Nothing. Perhaps I just planted the idea that freedom was better than slavery, even at the expense of losing all the trappings." She glanced at Sam and saw the clueless expression on his face. "She's been denying to herself that she's unhappy in her present situation. She loves the stuff and the occasional attentions of her employer, but the fact remains that she is a prisoner. Now she has to decide if it's worth it, or if she should walk away."

"It might not be that simple, honey."

"How will she know if she doesn't try?"

"Just because you barely escaped with your life, doesn't mean the same will hold true for her."

"One thing I know for sure," Yvette said with a growing smile. "The likelihood of her having a dashing man rescue her is quite slim. After all, you're already taken."

Sam laughed and pulled her close to himself as they walked back to the limo.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"How'd it go, Sam?" Michael kept his eyes on the road, but he glanced at Sam in the rearview mirror.

"He bumped up the delivery date by a half a week. This is not good, Mike. Pearce said she can get most of the agents to Miami by that time, but the rest..." He shook his head. "I tried making it financially unattractive, but it didn't work. For some reason he wants these women by Friday night."

"I'll look into it and see if I can come up with anything, and I'll lean on Pearce. Maybe we can find some other agents."

"He's got their pictures, Mike. If the women in the pictures don't show, he's going to get really suspicious, if he isn't already. I think that's why he moved up the date, to try and trip me up."

"Relax, Sam. We'll either come through, or we'll nab him before he's had a chance to realize that he didn't exactly get what he ordered."

"Jeez Mike, it's not like we're delivering a pizza here!"

"Sam, I know." Michael's eyes locked with his for a moment. "I'll help you take care of this wrinkle. Just keep schmoozing with the guy."

"Yeah, thanks," Sam said as he let out a deep breath. "I know, you've got my back."

Michael gave him a reassuring smile in the mirror. "What's on your agenda tonight? Like I really need to ask?"

"Vargas wants us to meet at that Italian restaurant across from the Victor at six thirty, so we need to get back to the hotel and change."

"Okay." Michael sounded disappointed. "Here I thought you two were going to have some fun." He parked the car in the circular drive in front of the hotel, got out and let them out of the back. "I'll see you..." He paused and glanced at his watch. "In about three hours?"

"That'll be great, Mike." Sam smiled. "Why don't you go home and see Fi for a little while? We'll still be here when you come back."

Michael shook his head and smiled. "Sam, sometimes I think you can read my mind."

"Take care, brother." He guided Yvette by the elbow toward the hotel entrance. "And don't do anything we wouldn't do!"

They took advantage of the time they had, and while Sam massaged Yvette's back, he said, "I think you got a little burnt today, Eve."

"Yes, I'm afraid you're right."

"Hang on, they've got something here for that." He returned with a plastic tube, straddled her hips and squeezed a generous portion of the cool aloe lotion on her back. Then he rubbed it in with soft strokes that relaxed her.

"Mmmm, that's nice. Makes me feel like I'm melting into this bed." When he finished, she asked, "Do we really have to go tonight? Can't you call Vargas and say I'm not feeling well?"

"No, we've got to keep an eye on him. I'm sure he keeps cutting into our lives because he wants to keep an eye on me, too. I know it's tough, Eve, but just think of what I had to put up with before you got here!"

"Sam...why did you take this assignment?" She twisted her head to look at him. "You knew that you'd be...confronted...by beautiful women all wanting to get into your bed, right?"

"Eve, I've had plenty of assignments where the women threw themselves at me and I didn't sleep with any of them." He began rubbing her back again. "I did it because I thought of you, and how you were basically a slave before we met. If I could prevent that from happening to other women, so they didn't have to risk their lives for freedom... You know, you never really told me how that all happened."

"My parents were well off at one time. We lived in London, in a beautiful old house, furnished with the finest things. That accent I affected for this ruse? I learned to speak that way because everyone around me talked like that. I remember having the prettiest dresses in school, and the other girls were always jealous." She sighed. "But then my father made a bad business decision. He went in with Roche on a deal, and he lost everything. He owed Roche a ton of money. I don't know how much, because they never told me how bad it was."

"So he took your family's freedom in trade and forced you to come to the States to work as servants in his home?"

"Well, we started at his father's house. I was too little to do anything, but he gave me an education, enough to know what I was missing. I devoured the library in his father's house as I grew up, hiding books away in my quarters and reading them by flashlight late into the night." She smiled at the memory and turned her head to look at him again. "It was one of the few good remembrances I have of that time." Then she frowned and rested her chin on her hands. "When I got older, and I was a teenager, Mr. Roche started looking at me differently. I wasn't stupid. I knew why."

"Eve, you don't have to..."

"No, I've kept this from you for far too long. You need to know, Sam." She took a breath. "Fortunately, I kept my virtue intact, but it wasn't easy. He finally gave up and married Romana, and then he gave me to her to serve as her assistant. I think he was hoping if he kept me close, he could eventually have his way with me."

"But that didn't happen."

"No," she replied with a shake of her head and her smile warmed up her entire face. "Romana and I became such good friends, and she helped me, Sam. She diverted his attention from me, even though she found him repugnant, and he hit her, and..." She sniffled. "She was too beautiful a person to deserve what she got."

Sam stopped his hands and lay down beside her, taking her into his arms. Without words, he told her that she was worth her friend's sacrifice.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

They were dressed for a more casual evening and at the restaurant on time, but Vargas was running late. They sat at the table, ordered drinks, and surveyed the other diners, but after awhile it seemed as if he would be a no-show.

Sam gave the restaurant a once-over before turning to Yvette. "He's not coming, and I have to wonder why."

"Maybe he had some trouble at one of his...establishments."

Sam shook his head. "That's what he has managers for. And managers for his managers." He took a sip of his drink. "No, we got stood up for a good reason, and I'm afraid I won't like what that reason is."

"Do you think he's figured us out and plans to kill us? Ambush us right here?" Yvette's eyes widened as she tried to keep the panic at bay.

"I'm not sure. I just know that right now, I'm thinking we should get back to the hotel and call room service." He raised his arm for the waiter's attention.

"Are you ready to order now, Sir?"

"No thanks. Our other party isn't showing, so we'd like to just settle up our tab here. Sorry."

"It's quite alright, Sir. I'll be back with your bill."

After they left the restaurant, on their short trip to the limousine, Sam watched carefully around them. Yvette clung to his arm as her head swiveled casually about, and they both breathed a little easier when they got into the vehicle.

"What happened, Sam?"

"He didn't show, Mike, and I'm feeling really uneasy about it." He glanced out the tinted window. "Take us back to the hotel. We're going to hunker down for the night and hope Vargas doesn't have something up his sleeve."

"I'll hang around the hotel just in case. You know how to get in touch with me if you need me."

"Thanks, Mike." As they got out of the limo at the hotel, Sam shoved a wad of bills into his hand. "Go get yourself a nice dinner, Mikey. On the agency." He laughed. "Pearce wanted me to flash around fifty grand. I'm afraid I'm getting a little behind, and I've got a feeling this operation is wrapping up soon."

Michael counted the bills and whistled. "Our tax dollars at work. Have a good night, Sam."

"You too, Mike."

They ordered room service and ate at the dining room table in shorts and casual shirts. It was a large table, but they took up only a corner of it, their knees touching underneath, arms butting up against each other, and occasionally their lips met. They tried to forget Vargas, the deal, and the risk they'd taken to get this far. Over dessert, they planned what they would do after the operation was over.

"Let's rent a cabin in the keys, take the kids, and just spend a week away from everything. I can certainly afford it with what they're paying me for this job," Sam said before planting a kiss on her lips.

"I'd just be happy if you told them they can shove off. No more work that involves temptation." She kissed him back.

"Unless you're by my side the entire time, and then there'd be a whole different kind of..." He was interrupted by a knock on the door. His eyes flew open and he looked at her.

"Who could that be?"

"I gave the manager instructions to leave us alone tonight. Not sure who it could be."

The knock became a pounding, and a voice on the other side was muffled. Sam's gaze grew uneasy, and he picked up his sidearm from a drawer as he made his way to the door. He motioned Yvette to hide in the bedroom, but she stood by with the gun he gave her shortly after they were married.

"Who is it?"

He heard crying on the other side of the door. Fearing that it might be a trap, he proceeded with caution. Slowly, he opened the door, his gun up and ready. He saw Bella standing before him, her hair a mess, makeup streaming down her face, and her dress in disarray. She looked up at Sam and he saw the makings of a serious black eye.

"Oh my god," he whispered as he gently took her arm and pulled her inside. After taking a cautious look around the small vestibule housing the elevator and a couch, he closed and locked the door after her.

"Bella!" Yvette rushed to her, and the devastated woman crumbled even more as Yvette reached out to her and took her in her arms. "S...Charles, get her an ice pack." She led Bella down the steps and the other woman slipped, nearly taking both of them down. But Yvette kept her upright and didn't stop until they were seated on the couch in the living area.

Sam retreated to the well-stocked bar and grabbed some ice, threw it into a towel, and met them at the couch. He crouched down to their level and held out the bundle. He would have just placed it on her eye himself, but he wasn't sure how she would react.

Yvette took it and gently pressed it to her eye. Bella winced and pulled back. Yvette gave the ice back to Sam as she said, "Oh dear, I think this is more than just a black eye." She carefully probed the eye socket. "That bastard," she whispered. "It feels as if her cheek is broken." She examined Bella's face more closely and discovered that her lips were swollen and bruised. "Bella, did Vargas do this to you?"

She nodded and reached out for the ice, which she took from Sam. "It hurts...but better than without it." She sniffled and swallowed, held the ice to the side of her face, and looked at Yvette with her good eye. "Is this...the price of...freedom?"

"I'm sorry, Bella. I never meant for this to happen!"

She shook her head. "'S okay. I did...what had to be done. You were right." She let out a long sigh. "None of it was worth losing myself." She looked down at the blood on her dress. "I left everything behind, and this is all I get out of it... a ruined dress."

"You have your life, Bella. That's worth a lot more than a stupid piece of clothing," Sam said with a smile and an assuring pat on her knee as he stood. "I'm going to call Mike. We need to get her to the hospital, and make sure that Vargas never touches her again." There was rage boiling under the controlled tone of his voice, and Bella detected it.

She looked up at him with wonder. "I can't believe you. Why...why are you helping me? You're a trader in flesh, just like him. What do you want from me?"

Sam knew that if he told her the truth, he risked blowing their cover. If this was some kind of elaborate trick on Vargas's part, if he said the wrong thing, he could be sealing his and Yvette's fate. "Maybe, but I'm not a heartless animal like your boss. Don't worry, we'll help you." He pulled out his phone. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." When he was behind closed doors in the bedroom, he called Michael. "Mike, it's me, Sam. Bella just showed up here, looks like Vargas used her as a punching bag. Eve thinks her cheek is broken. I need you to get her to the hospital, and I'm going to call Pearce to make sure she has protection once she's there."

"Sam, what if this is a trap?"

"I guess we'll find that out soon enough, won't we?" He heard a commotion outside the room. "Yeah, I guess we're gonna find out right now. Just get up here as soon as you can."

"Copy that."

Sam emerged from the bedroom to find the entrance door hanging by a hinge and Vargas stood in the middle of the suite with white hot anger in his eyes. His knuckles were scraped and bloody as he pointed at Bella.

"You can't run, Bella. You belong to me!" He strode across the floor, but Sam rushed in and blocked his way. Vargas pushed against Sam, but he wouldn't budge. "Charles! You know how valuable my property is!"

Sam looked down on the man and spoke slowly, trying to control his rising temper. "She's a free woman."

"I bought her. She's mine!"

Sam's blood was boiling as he pushed Vargas away. "I think you better just leave right now and hope that Bella doesn't decide to press charges."

"She wouldn't dare!" His eyes grew wider and angrier.

"Try me," she blurted out boldly.

Vargas yelled in rage and ran himself into Sam, taking them both down. The air rushed out of Sam as his body hit the floor, but he quickly recovered and delivered a good blow to the man's head. They struggled and punches flew while the women watched. Michael ran in through the open door, hesitated for a moment as he saw the fight, and then moved in with gun drawn. Vargas was on top of Sam and hit him hard with a right to the jaw, but Michael was there with his gun pressed up against Vargas's head.

"Stop, or I'll make you stop."

Vargas's eyes turned to the man with the gun. He put his hands up in the air. Sam worked his way out from under him, grabbed Vargas's arms, and held them behind his back. "Hey Mike, you got any cuffs?"

"Right here, Sam."

"Who...who are you people?"

Michael smiled. "We're your worst nightmare, Vargas."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The police hauled Vargas away and charged him with assault. Michael took Bella to the hospital, and Yvette accompanied her at Bella's pleading. That left Sam alone in the penthouse to explain what Vargas was doing there, and it was a difficult story to tell without implicating himself in Vargas's crimes. He wasn't too surprised to see Pearce walk into the suite, but when he saw her laser stare, he knew his chances of making contract worker of the month were next to nil.

She stopped before the small group that consisted of two police officers and Sam. She gave them a cool smile as she flashed her badge. "Fellas, I need to have a word with this man. If you need to ask him any more questions, you can get them later."

"Sorry, ma'am, but we're going to have to take him in too."

"Well, you can have him when I'm done." She noticed them still standing nearby and snapped, "I need a moment alone with him. Now."

"Okay, but we'll be waiting in the lobby." The cops walked out of the suite, leaving them alone.

The expression on Pearce's face changed from irritation to outright fury. "Sam, what the hell were you thinking? In five minutes, you ruined months of work. Months! And what do we get Vargas on? Assault! He's going to walk, and any chance we had of catching him in the act was gone. We'll never get another agent in to complete the job."

"Come on, I was wearing a wire during all those negotiations. There's gotta be something on those tapes to nail him!"

"It's not good enough." Her face was only inches from his. "You blew tens of thousands of dollars in resources and man hours, Sam! As far as I'm concerned, you're done. If you were one of us, you'd be burned right now, no, you'd be incinerated."

If she meant to intimidate him, she would have a long wait to see him collapse. Cool as could be, with a charming half smile, he asked, "May I say something in my own defense?"

"I don't care what you have to say." She began to pace in front of him, eyes glaring, and her arms folded tightly to her chest. But she didn't turn away, so maybe there was hope.

"I didn't exactly give up the cover. All I did was ask Mike if he had some handcuffs."

"Like what limo driver carries handcuffs?"

"The kind who might act as my bodyguard."

Pearce rolled her eyes. "That's lame even for you. Vargas is not going to believe that."

"The cops led him away before we could say anything that might really give us away." Suddenly, he snapped his fingers. "Hey, I've got an idea!" She didn't ask him what it was, so he volunteered it. "How about if you pull a few strings and get me thrown into the same cell as Vargas?"

"That could be arranged. And then what?" She stood leaning her weight on one hip, eyeing him coldly.

"Then I talk to him, find out what he thinks happened. If he didn't pick up on us being undercover, we're all good. We can keep up the show."

"Sam, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

He closed the distance between them and looked down at her. "If this mission is so important to you, you'll do it my way. You know I can find out what he thinks happened, and then spin it, explain it all away so he starts thinking that he was wrong and that everything is still good between us." He paused, and she blinked. "What have you got to lose, if it's already shot to hell like you think it is."

Pearce sighed deeply. "Don't tempt me, Sam, because right now, I really would love to see you behind bars for butchering this whole thing."

"Now, wait a minute! Mike is the one who called me Sam, so if anyone tipped Vargas off, it was him. That and the 'we're your worst nightmare' line."

"But what happened after that?"

"That's about the time the cops showed up. It was complete chaos after that and they hauled him away while they interviewed me."

Sam could tell by the angle of her shoulders that she was relaxing a little as she thought about what he'd said. "Okay, but if you can't fix this..."

"If I do, we keep going." Pearce nodded as a small smile crept across her face, and she grabbed Sam roughly by the arm.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Doing them a favor," she replied.

"What?"

"Turn around, hands behind your back."

Sam let out a deep sigh and did as she ordered, noting to himself as the first cuff rasped shut that she was enjoying this way too much. "Hey, you mind not making them so tight?"

"You think I'm giving you special treatment, _Mr. Finley?_ Not a chance!" The second cuff was in place. She grabbed his arm again and hauled him to the elevator. "I almost wish I could be in that cell with you. Almost."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The cuffs stayed on until Sam was processed and thrown into the cell. Vargas was the only other person in it, and by the look on the man's face, he was definitely not happy to share it with Mr. Charles Finley.

"Hey," Sam said and nodded to him as he rubbed his wrists and took a seat on the opposite side of the cell, which left only a few feet between them. "Don't be upset with me, Vargas. I didn't call the cops! I was ready to settle it man to man, but my bodyguard, Michael...well, he gets a little too...excited...sometimes. Especially when he thinks I'm in danger."

"How...how did he know?"

Sam looked thoughtful. "Well, when you came to the hotel, were you angry? Did you create a scene trying to get upstairs?"

"Of course I was livid! If you'd been there in the lobby, I would have..." He lunged forward, and Sam put up his arms in a defensive gesture.

"Uh uh, control yourself, Ignatius. They can see everything, hear everything, in here." Vargas sat down on the bunk, deflated but still breathing hard. Sam leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, speaking softly, calmly, getting him to settle down. "Well, where was I? Oh yeah, Michael. You'll have to forgive him, Ignatius. I think he's seen too many of those action movies, you know? I think Eastwood is his favorite." He let out a short laugh. "Hey, I'm just glad he didn't pull a dirty Harry on you! That would have been awkward to explain! It was bad enough I had to cover your ass in the interview process."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Sam shook his head and looked around the cell before returning his gaze to Vargas. "You don't think they put me in here for my health, do you? I told them you were only defending yourself, because I got angry at you and started the fight."

Vargas's brow crinkled in incomprehension as he stared at Sam. "Why'd you do that?"

"It gets you out of here, and we can complete our deal. Otherwise, you're looking at some serious charges. Well, you still might be if Bella decides to press it, but I might be able to work that out so you come out with nothing against you." He lowered his voice and moved to sit beside him on the bunk. "Tell you what. You let me have Bella, she'll drop the charges, and I'll forget about the extra ten grand each woman. Does that sound fair to you?"

The man stared at him in disbelief. "You lied for me, you bargain with me for Bella, and now you stand to lose money on this deal...why are you doing this?"

Clamping a hand on Vargas's shoulder, Sam replied with a smile, "It's called building a business relationship. We do this, there'll be plenty of more women that I can get you. Top-notch women, and next time I'll make a profit. What do you say?"

"Why did your 'bodyguard' call you Sam?"

"Heh, that's another thing about my boy, Mikey. He and I used to run around together, until he fell on some hard times. He started working for me, and now...well, sometimes he forgets his place and calls me Sam. It's my middle name." He pulled away and studied Vargas. The man wanted to believe him, but he was struggling. "I'd show you my driver's license, but they took that along with the rest of my stuff. Honest! It's true!"

Finally, Vargas nodded. "If you can get us out of here...everything will go as we agreed."

"It's already in the works, pal." Sam grinned, because he knew Pearce was listening to the entire exchange thanks to a small camera and microphone he was outfitted with before being escorted into the cell. "We might have to sit here a little longer, but my lawyer will get us out before sunrise. I have no doubt about it!"

In an hour, a tired looking man in a tailored suit was led into the holding area and took in the sight of the two men talking in the small cell. "Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. What have you gotten yourself into, man?"

"It's nothing, Jesse. Just a...misunderstanding between two friends. Ignatius Vargas, Jesse Parker, my lawyer. Jesse, Ignatius Vargas, my...business associate."

"Pleasure." Jesse glanced at Vargas and redirected his attention to Sam. "Chuck, you can't keep beating up on your business associates every time a deal goes bad."

"This had nothing to do with business. At least, not directly." Sam's shoulders rose and he looked at Vargas. "It's not like this happens all the time." He grinned sheepishly.

"It doesn't matter," Vargas spat. "Can you get us out of here?"

"I'm working on it. If you two fellas agree to play nice, I'll get the charges dropped."

"Oh we'll be nice. We'll be like best buddies, won't we, Iggy?"

Vargas gave Sam a look, then nodded. "Yes, we'll be on our best behavior. There are too many things at stake here right now to let this stand between us and our friendship. Right, Sam?"

Sam's eyebrow hitched up. "Yeah." He threw his arm around Vargas's shoulders and chuckled. "This'll be one of those things we laugh about later. But only if the charges are dropped and we get out of here." He looked pointedly at Jesse, who hid a smile behind a serious expression.

"It's being taken care of, and you should be released soon. By the time you return to the hotel, you'll find that the repairs have been made and billed to you, Chuck." Jesse looked at him sternly. "Just try to stay out of trouble for the next few days...okay?"

Sam laughed nervously as the guard let them out of the cell. "You've got my promise, Jesse!"

The three emerged from the police station and found the limousine waiting with Michael standing beside the open door. His feet were spread apart and his hands clasped in front of him, his face frozen in a scowl.

"Y-you don't seriously expect me to get into a vehicle he's driving, do you Chuck?"

"Oh, it'll be fine. Won't it, Michael?"

Michael pasted on a smile. "I promise I won't cuff you again, Mr. Vargas. I was just trying to protect my employer, but now that we've ironed all that out...you can either accept a ride from Mr. Finley, or you take a cab home."

Vargas looked at Sam and Jesse, then sighed and slipped past Michael into the back seat. Sam gave him a crooked smile and got in with him. "Jesse?"

"No thank you, I came with my own vehicle. Good night, Chuck, Mr. Vargas. Stay out of trouble now. I don't want any more middle of the night calls."

"There won't be any, I promise," Sam replied and Michael closed the door.

Michael muttered to Jesse, "Did he pull it off?"

"I think so. Looks like we came away with little, if any, damage."

"Good. Thanks, Jesse."

"No problem." He walked to his car, and Michael got into the limousine.

Michael drove Vargas to his mansion on Star Island, and he smiled with a much less intimidating expression as he let him out. After Vargas went inside, he returned to the driver's seat grinning.

"You know, Mike, this wasn't an all bad thing."

"I know. We just found out where he lives."

"Yeah," Sam said with a laugh. "Think maybe this'll get me back out of the dog house with Pearce?"

"Maybe. I wouldn't count on it, but who knows?"

"Ah, who cares anyway? Once this is over, I'm done doing things directly for her. I really feel for ya, Mikey, that she's your boss."

"Yeah, well, I've been considering just sticking to the freelance cases. The clients are a lot more appreciative of my efforts."

"Ain't that the truth!" Sam yawned and settled himself into the seat. "I think I'm gonna kind of miss this limo when we're done. It's real comfy." He smiled, folded his arms behind his head, and closed his eyes.

"I wouldn't know. I've had to drive you all around town!"

When Michael arrived at the hotel, he found Sam asleep in the back. He had to shake him to get him to wake up, and then he was groggy.

"What?"

"We're here, Sam. Time to get upstairs and go to bed."

"Oh, okay." Sam got out and said, "'Night, Mike. See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here."

Sam entered the lobby and caught sight of the manager behind the desk. The man's eyes bored into Sam's and he hurried across the space as much as he could without losing a sense of decorum. Fortunately for him, there were few people about at that time of night other than the cleaning crew.

"Mr, Finley! Please, stop!"

"Oh great," he muttered. He stopped and held up his hands to hold off the manager's speech. "Look, I know what this is about, and payment for all the damages has been arranged. It won't happen again, I assure you."

"That's a relief. Mr. Finley, if you weren't such a...a good customer of ours...I would ask you to leave."

"Jeez, I just sent my driver home. Can't you wait until the morning?"

"No, Mr. Finley, I am not evicting you. You are free to stay here until your business has been conducted."

"Okay, so what's the problem, then?"

"No problem. I just wanted to make sure that this was an isolated incident."

Sam glanced at him. The guy was truly afraid he'd rented the penthouse to a dangerous man. He smiled at him. "I assure you, from here on out, it'll be smooth sailing."

"Alright, then." The manager smiled warmly. "You have a good night, Sir."

"Thanks. You too."

When Sam swiped his key card in the door, he wasn't sure what he would find. The door was repaired and looked as if nothing had ever happened in the suite. The mess inside was cleaned up, including the remains of his and Yvette's supper. He was a little disappointed. His stomach rumbled, so he checked the small fridge in the bar for a snack. Nothing but beer and sodas inside. He sneered, closed the door, and moved toward the bedroom. On the way, he turned out the lights.

The bedroom was completely dark, but he'd been there long enough to make his way around without illumination. He would have liked nothing better than to just hop into bed and curl up with Yvette, but he needed to clean up first. After a quick, hot shower, he would be ready for bed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Sam dried himself off as he made his way through the bedroom, threw the towel onto the back of a chair, and sat on the edge of the bed. The light snapped on, and he whirled around to come face to face with the barrel of a gun.

"Oh Sam, it's just you!" Yvette breathed out in relief as she lowered the gun.

"Yeah, honey. Why are you on my…side…oh." He quickly grabbed the towel he discarded and wrapped it around himself, but not before the women got a look at his backside. "Eve, what's she doing in our bed?"

"I was lucky," Bella replied. "The doctors said my cheek wasn't broken, just bruised really bad. So they released me, but I didn't have anywhere to go, and I was afraid to sleep alone…."

"Pearce told us you were arrested, but she wouldn't let me go bail you out, honey! I hate that woman!"

"It's okay, Eve. I had to get arrested so that I could get into a cell with Vargas and convince him that I was who he thought I was." He glanced at Bella and noticed her interest in their conversation.

"Oh, I know everything," she said with a grin. "And I assured your boss that I would do whatever I could to help out."

"I see." Sam hesitated. "Anyway, the point is, after all this, everything is still on. And you," he said, pointing to Bella. "You need to go somewhere safe until this is resolved."

"What do you suggest, Sam?"

Sam thought for a few seconds. "I know that Tom and Pam have the kids right now, but I think maybe they wouldn't mind having another houseguest for a little while. And I'm sure Tom would have a bunch of resources and contacts to help you get on your feet, Bella."

"Thank you, Sam. You and Yvette have been…simply amazing. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"No need," Sam replied. "Just get out there and do something productive with your life." He looked at Yvette and asked, "Did you tell her about your situation?"

"Yes, I did."

"It gives me hope, and convinces me I did the right thing." Bella smiled.

Sam nodded. "Okay then. I guess I'll go make myself comfortable in the other bedroom, since Joseph isn't around."

"Yes, where is he? He wasn't here when we returned," Yvette said with suspicion.

"Now that everything is on board again, he's working with Pearce trying to get everything we need for this go off without a hitch. God knows we've had enough of those as it is!" He turned toward the door. "'Night, ladies."

"Oh no, I wouldn't dream of kicking you out of your bed!" Bella exclaimed as she crawled out from under the covers. "I'll take the other room. You two have a good night."

"Are you sure?"

"You're here now. I feel a lot safer." She slowly stepped backwards to the door, fidgeting her hands, trying not to look at him standing in nothing but that towel. It reminded her of the night she remembered nothing about, and it made her wonder what exactly they did. Now that she knew his mistress was really his wife, and that Yvette was quickly becoming a friend, she felt a twinge of guilt. It was better to get out and hide in the other room.

"I'll call down to the desk and make sure security doesn't let anyone up here tonight." He paused and added, "Maybe this time they'll do their job!"

"Thanks, Sam. Yvette." Bella's eyes watered and she escaped the room.

Sam picked up the phone. "Yes, this is Charles Finley in the penthouse. Please make sure that we aren't disturbed for the rest of the night. The last time, your security was...lacking. Let's not have a repeat of that situation, shall we?" He listened for a few moments and nodded. "Thank you."

"Well, that was an exciting evening," Yvette remarked as she put her gun away and lay down beside Sam in bed.

"Too much excitement." He yawned. "Not sure how much longer I can do all this stuff."

"You'll be fine. I believe in you." She wrapped and arm and a leg around him and said, "'Night, dear."

Her simple vote of confidence gave him a rush of warmth, and he burrowed down into the covers and held he closer.

The next morning, Sam was on the phone with Tom. "Hey Tom, I've got a little situation I need help with. Can you meet me for breakfast at the cafe on Ocean Drive, say, in about a half hour?"

"Sure, Chuck." Tom knew Sam's undercover alias and used it just in case. "Are you still working?"

"Yes. I've got a little problem to take care of and I think you're just the man to help me."

"Okay, I'll see you there."

Tom was on time, and Sam arrived shortly after him with Yvette and Bella. Bella wore one of Yvette's outfits that was more flowing and it fit her well, and her shoes happened to match, so she at least had something of her own to wear. The bruise on her cheek looked horrible in the daylight, and all the makeup in the world couldn't hide it. She settled for a straw sun hat.

"Charles, Kathleen," Tom greeted as if on cue. He smiled at Bella, but the expression wavered when he caught sight of her face. A second later, the smile was back and he held his hand out to her. "Hello, my name is Tom. Pastor Tom to just about everybody who knows me."

"Hi." Bella blushed.

"Tom, this is Bella. She...well, it's a long story. Let's just put it this way," Sam said as he and the women sat with Tom at the umbrella table on the porch that opened up to the street. "Bella needs to get away from South Beach. She needs some protection, and a lot of understanding and TLC. I figured that you and Pam could take care of that."

"What happened?"

"My boss is trying to deal with...Charles. I'm...I mean, I was...one of his working girls and his mistress. My boss, that is, not Charles." She glanced at Sam with an apologetic look. "You know, I don't think this is such a good idea. I don't do well with church people. I..." She suddenly jumped out of her seat and attempted to make a break for it, but Tom got up and stopped her with a gentle hand around her arm.

"Hey, it's okay. I've never been that good around some of those church people, either." He grinned. "You can come home with me, and Pam and I will help you however we can. In our congregation, we have a lot of women who have survived addiction, abusive relationships, you name it. They even have a support group that meets once a week. Sometimes twice a week if somebody needs some extra care."

"That sounds...nice. Thank you." She blinked. "I really don't get why you all are being so good to me. I mean, after what happened that night with Charles, and..."

"Nothing happened, Bella."

She gaped at him. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

"I'm not." He smiled at her and urged her to sit down again, which she did as she kept her surprised gaze on him.

"But the room was a mess!"

Sam looked around warily before answering her, and then his voice was low so only those at the table could hear. "I know. Joseph and I did that, after I knocked you out with a sedative in your drink. Sorry, but I had to make it look good without actually doing anything."

"What a relief!" Bella exclaimed as she spread her hand over her chest. "I was afraid I'd actually...you know..." She shook her head and chuckled. "I don't normally have a fit of conscience about being with a married man, but things are going to be different now. I've seen enough of the underbelly of this world of lust. I want a fresh start." The look on her face told them all that she meant every word.

"And we'll help you get that," Tom assured her. "We'll start by giving you a place to stay for awhile. I'll introduce you to the ladies' group, and before you know it you'll have friends who can help you get on your feet, like others did for them."

"And after all this is wrapped up, we can get you into a witness protection program," Sam added.

Bella frowned. "That means I'd have to testify against Ignatius, right?"

"Yeah, but you'll be the nail in his coffin, and he'll be going away for a long time." He smiled. "Then you can do whatever you want."

"Thank you. This means so much to me!" She could barely contain the emotions that welled up in her.

"We know. You were really blessed to come across Sa...Charles and Kathleen. It was your time to break free."

Bella nodded. "I didn't think I could do this, but the longer I'm away from Ignatius, the more I want this."

"Well then, we should probably get started," Tom said as he stood. Bella followed. "We'll see you two later. I hope everything goes well with the operation."

"Thanks, Tom. And thanks for taking in Bella," Yvette said as she stood and gave Bella a hug. "May God be with you, Bella. Don't be afraid. Just grab this new life and don't ever let go! That's what I did, and look what I have now!" She glanced at Sam and smiled.

"I said it before, you're a very lucky woman. I hope to see you both soon."

"You will. This is going to be over in a day or so," Sam replied. "Take care, Bella."

"Be careful, Charles. Ignatius can turn on you when you least expect it. He can't be trusted."

"Thanks for the warning."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

"Mr. Finley, you have a phone call," the concierge whispered to Sam as he and Yvette enjoyed an unusually Vargas-free evening. All day, the man left him alone, which Sam found odd but not unexpected. With Bella gone from his life, Vargas was probably spending more time on his operations, preparing things for Friday.

"I'll be right back, baby," he said and kissed her cheek.

"I will try to save you some of these," she replied with a teasing smile as she waved a fried mushroom in the air before popping it into her mouth.

Sam laughed and walked out to the lobby with the concierge, who led him to a secluded area with a phone. He was never comfortable with situations like this, because they often became scenarios for an ambush. But he was safe, and to be certain, he kept his back up to the wall as he picked up the receiver and looked around him. "Charles Finley."

"Charles, it's Pearce."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Everything is set for tomorrow. Has he given you a time and a place to meet?"

"No. I haven't heard a peep out of him all day. I don't know if he's up to something, regrouping, I don't know. Maybe he's having remorse for giving up Bella. No matter what the guy does and what a jerk he is, I think he honestly felt something for her."

"Okay, then you need to reach out to him. Alone, without your mistress, man to man."

"You're right. Kat and I were just having appetizers in the bar at the hotel." He sighed. "I guess she'll be on her own tonight."

"If it'll make you feel better, I can go over there and be with her until you get back. Pretend I'm a friend of hers. Vargas has seen just about everyone else on your team and he knows their roles."

"Right. And this way, you can keep an eye on me so I don't screw this up. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Pearce."

"That has nothing to do with it!" She toned down her voice, got her emotions under control, and said, "I'll be there in a little while. Stay with her until I arrive."

"You can count on it." Sam hung up the phone and returned to the main lobby. He pulled out his phone and called Vargas, and as he waited for him to pick up, he glanced into the bar to keep an eye on Yvette.

"Hello." He sounded weary.

"Hey, Ignatius. You sound like you've been dragged behind a truck, man. What's wrong?"

"I didn't sleep well last night."  
>"You miss Bella?" He tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice. If Sam was right about him having the tiniest bit of love for her, then he'd have to rethink his impression. Maybe Vargas wasn't a complete scum bag after all.<p>

"I have plenty of women like her," Vargas spat, relieving Sam of his presumptions. "No, there were some, eh, problems with my operations last night. I am afraid that I will not be able to take delivery of the women tomorrow."

"What?" The color must have drained from Sam's face, because even from where she sat, Yvette showed concern on her face. "What are you saying? I blew nearly a quarter of a million dollars for you to get these women early! And now you're telling me we could have kept the original schedule?" He let out a breath. He was glad they didn't really spend that much, or he would have blown a blood vessel.

"I'm sorry, Charles. I had a...a setback."

"What kind of setback? Are you saying you can't pay me even if we were still at the originally agreed upon price?" He was having a hard time keeping his voice down, and people were staring at him. He glared at them and walked away. "Let me tell you, pal, nobody, I mean nobody, welches on a deal made with Chuck Finley." He took a few breaths to calm himself. "You take a few days and we'll work with our agreed schedule, and that'll give you time to come up with the cash. Okay?"

"It's not a matter of money."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't talk on the phone, Charles. Will you meet me at Carlito's?"

"Carlito's?" What were the odds of picking the favorite haunt of team Westen? "Sure, I can be there."

"You know where it is?"

"Yeah, I can be there in about twenty minutes."

"Okay. Thank you, Chuck. You've been a good friend to me, and an upstanding business man."

When Vargas hung up, Sam caught Pearce's attention as she entered the hotel lobby. She smiled and waved at him, approached, and gave him a hug as if he were a good friend. "Sam, my cover is Lily Harmon, an old friend of Kathleen's."

He disengaged from her and grinned. "Lil! This is a surprise! Come on into the bar. Kat's here too!"

"She is? Wonderful!" Pearce was surprised when Sam escorted her into the bar by hanging onto her forearm, holding it close to himself so she had no choice but to lean into him. "What's going on, Sam? Did you hear from Vargas?"

"Yeah, he's freaked out about something. Wants to meet me at, of all places, Carlito's. In twenty minutes."

"Okay, you go. I'll take care of Yvette."

They approached the table and Sam leaned over his wife. "Isn't this a surprise, Kat? Lily's here!"

"Well, this is a treat! Please, sit down! Charles, will you please get Lily a drink?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I have to meet Vargas at Carlito's." He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you two ladies later!"

Yvette smiled, but inside her stomach was in knots. "Be careful, my love," she whispered to him. He rubbed her back, leaving the warmth of his hand where he touched her.

"It'll be fine. I'll make sure Mike drives me there." It was only about a five minute walk, but now was a good time to have backup.

Michael parked the limousine on a side street and followed Sam at a discreet distance to their favorite bar. Sam entered, saw Vargas sitting on a couch toward the back, and went directly to him. Michael stayed near the open areas and seated himself at the bar.

"Well, Michael, this is a surprise. Didn't expect to see you, or Sam, here," Samuel spoke softly, but Michael's head still whipped around.

"What are you doing here?"

"Covering the night shift for a fella who couldn't make it in tonight. Says he's sick. I think..."

"Never mind," Michael said as he waved his hand. "Just give me a club soda with a twist of lemon."

"Sure thing, Mike." As he filled the glass, he asked, "What's going on?"

"That guy in the corner, on the couch, is the subject of our investigation. He's getting squirrelly, and for some reason he asked if Sam could meet him here." He shook his head. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I. We don't need any shooting going on around here at this time of night!"

Michael smirked. "We'll try to keep the disruptions to a minimum, okay Samuel?"

Samuel nodded and headed down the bar to take an order. Michael sipped on his drink and watched over the rim as a very agitated Vargas waved his hands around and sat in his seat as if it were spring-loaded and he would launch out of it at any second. Sam leaned forward, holding out his hand, and from the look on his face, Michael could see he was trying to calm him down. He wished he had access to the conversation, but that was left to Joseph and the agents in a van parked nearby. They were listening to every word thanks to a bug hastily sewn into Sam's inside suit pocket.

Michael slowly moved until he was within a few yards of the two men. Vargas had his back to him, and if he was careful, Michael could hide behind a barrier and listen without being seen by either man. He flattened himself against the wall. The servers skirted passed and looked at him strangely, but a few recognized him, and he smiled at them. They would be sure to leave him alone.

"Ignatius, what is going on? You had everything under control and now you're a wreck all because some agent was found in your club?"

"They're watching me. I knew it, Chuck! I knew it was a matter of time." Vargas leaned forward and rasped, "I have enemies. Many enemies who would be only too happy to call the Feds on me."

"Feds? What kind of Feds?"

"I don't know. FBI?"

Sam shook his head. "What are you all mixed up in, Ignatius?"

"It's not just the girls. I have," he hesitated, gauging whether he could really trust this man who sat before him looking very concerned about him, his business partner. "I have labs scattered all over south Florida. The pure stuff, coke, heroin, are brought in by boat, cut and packaged for sale."

Sam's eyebrow rose. "What about meth?"

"That too!"

As he ran a hand through his hair, Sam whistled low and sat back on the couch that was placed at an angle from where Vargas sat. He barely glanced at Michael, closed his eyes and shook his head. "I wish I'd known you were into all this before we started." He leaned forward again and whispered, "You've probably got DEA all over you right now!"

"Yes! That's why I'm so upset! They busted into a little warehouse I kept in Overtown, just a place to store shipments on their way out of the city. And sometimes, I...I keep the new shipments of girls there, just for a day or two until I know where I want them to work." He clasped his hands and let them hang between his knees as his body slumped further. "Chuck, that's why I can't take delivery!"

"Did you suspect they were on to you? Is that why you bumped up the delivery date?" He looked at Vargas through narrowed eyes.

Vargas nodded vigorously. "Yes, I was hoping to get them and have them moved before anything happened." He looked miserable as his head drooped and he clamped his hands behind his neck.

"Okay, let me think about this. Maybe we can come up with a different location." He slowly stood and pulled out his phone. "Let me make a few calls and see if I can get us an alternate staging area, okay? Then everything will be fine."

"Thank you, Chuck. I'm glad you called me."

"No problem. I've got what you want, and I just want to get paid. Hey, why don't you go home, or the club, or whatever, and I'll give you a call when I get this worked out?"

Vargas stood a little too quickly and lost his balance. In the time he'd been talking with Sam, he had at least two drinks. He probably had more than that before he even arrived at Carlito's, assisted with some of his own product in a failed attempt to find peace while his world came crashing down. Sam held him up until his legs supported him again. "Thank you, Chuck. I won't forget this. And I promise I'll pay the extra ten grand per woman."

Sam smirked. "Thanks, Ignatius. I'll call you."

Vargas teetered past Sam and completely ignored Michael hiding in the shadows. He walked unsteadily out of the bar and lifted his arm at the curb. They watched as a car pulled up and he got inside, and the black sedan sped off into the night.

"Think we should follow him," Sam asked Michael as he approached him.

"No, there's a unit already assigned to tail him. He'll have eyes on his back until we slap the cuffs on him, and long after that." Michael held back a grin. "Good work, Sam, volunteering to find him a place to do the deal. Now we have complete control over the situation."

"As long as Vargas doesn't go totally paranoid and skip town tonight." He squinted as he recognized a face coming toward them through the bar. "Hey Mike, what's my dad doing here?"

"Workin', Son. Aaron didn't come in, so I'm covering for him." Samuel eyed them both and asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Not really, but by late tomorrow morning, it will be," Michael answered. "Sam, I think I know just the location for this transaction to take place. I'll make some calls, talk to Pearce, and get everything set. Then I'll call you, and you can let Vargas know when to be there with the cash."

"Alrighty, sounds good to me. I'm going back to the hotel."

With brows knit, Samuel asked his son, "How's Yvette doing?"

Sam answered with a bright smile. "Dad, if it weren't for us having a family now, I'd take her on more missions. She's been a real asset."

"Maddie was worried about her getting involved." He didn't look convinced either that a Mr. and Mrs. Smith arrangement would be good for them.

"She's fine. She should be home tomorrow morning, and if everything goes well, I'll be home tomorrow night."

"Great! I'll tell Maddie, and we can have everyone over to celebrate!"

"Thanks, Dad, but I'd really like nothing better than to go home and be alone with my kids for awhile. Sorry."

"Not a problem, Son. I understand completely." He smiled at his son and patted his arm. "You have a good night, and good luck on tomorrow's operation."

"Thanks, Dad." He looked around and discovered that some time during their conversation, Michael had left. The van was gone, and no doubt Joseph was working with the other agents to stage their final scene in this mission. He couldn't wait for tomorrow to come, because even though Yvette was with him, he still felt out of sorts. Only when they were home would everything be right again.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

In the morning, Sam kissed Yvette goodbye, and said, "Stay here until I get back. Then we can check out, you go home, and I'll see you there later today."

"Why can't we go together?"

He sighed. "Paperwork and debriefing."

"Ahhh," she said with a knowing smile. "A good reason to get out of working for the government." She planted one more kiss on his lips, straightened his lapels and whisked some lint off his shoulder. Underneath, she felt the bulletproof vest. "You might want to take that jacket off until it's showtime, or you'll be sweating buckets." She knew him too well.

He chuckled. "You're right. When I get into the truck. For now, I have to keep up appearances." He kissed her hand, released it, and walked toward the entrance. "See you later, baby!"

"See you later, sweetheart!"

After he was gone, Yvette went to the bedroom to pack their things. She carefully sorted out the clothes that Mia let her borrow for the mission and put them into a suit bag. She would return them tomorrow after she'd had them dry cleaned.

As she looked at each one, she pictured herself in them and remembered how Sam looked at her when she wore the fetching outfits. She sighed long and soft, a dreamy expression on her face. In the few short days they'd been there, she'd fallen in love with him all over again, and she knew he did the same. Whatever happened with him and Bella was meaningless, and she was confident that it would never interfere in their relationship. As long as everything went smoothly today, they would be together again that night, and things could go back to the way they were, only better. This test only served to strengthen their bond. That thought sent a tingle down to her toes. _I hope he'll be ready, because tonight will be..._

A knock on the door startled her from her musings. "I'll be there, just a second!" She slipped into a pair of flats and rushed to the door. She opened it, and Vargas and his two bodyguards stood before her.

"Mr. Vargas, what are you doing here? I thought you were meeting Charles."

"I am," Vargas replied with a stony expression. His bodyguards came forward and grabbed her arms. "But I'm taking along a little insurance policy."

"What? I don't understand!" She kicked the shin of one of the men, but he barely flinched. "Unhand me this instant! You have no idea what you are doing!"

"I know exactly what we're doing. Your husband..."

"He is not my h..."

"Oh please, Mrs. Axe. Don't lie to me anymore. And you can cut the accent." Vargas smiled, but it was a cold and ruthless looking expression. "Yes, I know who you two really are. I suspected something the moment 'Charles' showed up with his mistress. Actually, I was concerned before that, when Bella told me he resisted her, and then all of a sudden they had a wild night that she knew nothing about." He shook his head. "Did you people really think I was that stupid? I had people watching you, digging into your story, and it just didn't add up. Until they discovered the truth."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she lied as convincingly as she could, sticking to her accent.

"That's quite alright, my dear Yvette. You can protest all the way to the meet. But once we're there, it won't matter. I have my own party plans, and they don't include you, Sam Axe, or the CIA. Take her."

"No! I promise, I will scream bloody murder and you won't get five steps out the door before security intervenes."

They left the suite door wide open and took her to the elevator. It opened, they got in, and Vargas pressed the third floor button as his smile widened. "Don't worry, we have a more private way of getting you out of here."

When they reached their floor, Yvette dug in her heels and made it difficult for the guards to take her. One tried to get her legs, but she kicked out at him and got him in the face. This distracted the other for the briefest of moments, enough time for her to elbow him in the nose. Sam had taught her a lot, but it wasn't enough against two well-built men. Before the doors could close on them, they pulled her out, grappled with her, got her in a grip that she couldn't get out of, and Vargas tied a gag around her mouth so she couldn't scream.

She tried her best, but it wasn't good enough. Her writhing only made the one guard tighten his arms until she felt like a boa constrictor was squeezing the life out of her. By the time they reached a sedan in the parking garage, Yvette lost her fight and consciousness, and she was like a rag doll as they tossed her roughly inside the trunk.

"She better not be dead," he said through gritted teeth.

"No, she's just out for now. We'll give her back to her hubby in good condition."

"It's awfully considerate of you to let Sam have his wife in one piece before we tear them apart," Vargas retorted as she slammed the lid on Yvette.

He and his men arrived early. The key to get in was exactly where Sam said it would be, and he opened the warehouse side door. Not long after, his crew of six men arrived and took up hiding places all around the outside of the warehouse. After the transaction was completed, and before the CIA swooped in to arrest Vargas, they would take down everyone except for the women and himself, and then he would drive off with the merchandise, the money, and the truck. He would have to leave Miami for good, but he didn't care. This was the biggest score of his life, and he couldn't wait to get started.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

From where he stood behind some crates, Vargas looked through the window and saw the truck arrive. Michael was driving, Sam rode shotgun, and Michael backed it up to a loading dock on the warehouse. Vargas smiled and opened the door for them, and the look on his face was one of pure excitement, like a kid who was about to get everything he ever wished for. Sam unlatched the truck's back door, pushed it up, and soon several women moved slowly out of the truck. They looked around as if in a daze.

As they filed off the truck, Vargas counted aloud, barely able to contain his ecstasy. "Twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three, twenty four." He had them line up just inside the warehouse.

"That's all of them!"

"And you delivered as promised, Charles. They're exotic and beautiful, just like their pictures. And now, I will deliver my end of the bargain."

Vargas turned to a place just inside the warehouse door. A silver case stood nearby, which he picked up and brought to Sam. He rested it on his knee and unlatched it. He turned it around on one arm as he smiled and showed Sam and Michael the contents. "Here you are, Mr. Finley. A half a million dollars for twenty four gorgeous women who will grace my new club, The Harem." He opened the case, and they saw the bills neatly stacked and bundled.

"You sure that's a half million," Sam asked.

"Oh yes! I counted it myself before coming here." He held out the case.

Sam glanced at Michael. "What do you think, Mike?"

"Looks like a half mil to me," he answered and closed the case before taking it from Vargas's possession.

"Okay, that's good enough for me."

A shot rang out and hit the cinderblock wall just above Sam's head. He ducked and turned, seeing where it came from. He pulled out his sidearm and shot at the warehouse across from them, but it was ineffective. He was too far away. Michael shot toward another warehouse that was closer, and he hit his target. Another shot sent him tumbling off the roof.

"Vargas, what is this?" Sam yelled at him. "You set us up!"

Vargas ducked into a reinforced section of the warehouse near the door and replied, "Did you really think you and your CIA could get me? I've been dodging people for years!"

Sam fired off a few more shots before taking cover in the same place as Vargas. He shoved his gun under the man's chin and said, "Call them off, or this'll be the last time you run."

Vargas grinned. "So if I call them off, you let me go?"

"Not a chance in hell of that happening, Iggy."

"Maybe you'll reconsider..." He trailed off and let his gaze wander farther into the warehouse.

Sam's eyes followed his, and it felt as if his heart dropped into his stomach. He knew this might happen, but to see Yvette standing there bound and gagged was too much. "You..." In his anger, he pressed the gun deeper into Vargas's neck. "Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!"

"She has everything to do with this," Vargas choked out. "If she buys my freedom."

Sam laughed mirthlessly. "That's a good one, you talking about freedom when you deny it to so many others!" With lightning quick speed, he raised the hand that held the gun and brought it down, slamming the back of his hand across Varga's face with such force, he was knocked unconscious. He snapped a handcuff on the man's wrist, and he twisted him round to kiss the concrete floor. The shooting outside had stopped, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sam, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Mike. Eve..."

"I'm fine, Sam." She stopped beside Michael and watched her husband secure the other cuff around Vargas's wrist.

Sam stood, tucked the gun into its holster, and closed the distance between Yvette and himself. Michael was wise enough to take a step back and let them have their time. He moved around them and picked up the groggy Vargas.

"What...what happened?"

Michael answered with a grin. "Sorry, Iggy. You dealt with the wrong people this time, and now it's gonna cost you. Remember when I said we were your worst nightmare? You should have listened."

"Nice work, Sam, Michael," Agent Pearce praised them with a smile.

"We couldn't have done it without the tail on Vargas and that bug that Joseph planted in his shoe," Michael said.

"You had a bug on me? How?"

"When I drove you home, we found out where you lived. We sent Joseph, Sam's false valet, to your house to bug just about everything he could get his hands on that you might wear to this meeting."

Vargas stared at Sam. "How could you?"

Sam shrugged. "Same way you had guys watching us. All's fair in war, so they say."

"You knew my entire plan." Vargas shook his head as two agents led him away.

"It was a good team effort." Pearce turned to Yvette, who stood encircled in Sam's arms, smiling at him with pride in her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It's okay. It worked, didn't it?" She smiled. "It was kind of nice to try some of those moves out on guys who actually had a little meat on them." She grinned and flexed her bicep in the air. "At least now I know where I need to work on things."

Sam gave her a withering look. "How about we take a little break from the action for awhile, huh?"

"You got it, sweetie," Yvette responded with a quick kiss.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Sam was almost home, but there was one place he needed to go first. He parked in the nearly empty lot. Tom's car was parked near the building next to another, possibly owned by the church secretary. He got out and stared up at the roof. The sanctuary was square, the roof angling up to a flat top, and a steeple made of four beams towered over it. On the tip, a bronze cross and dove kept sentinel over the grounds. He and Yvette had been bringing the children there on a regular basis. She was the one with the faith and the desire to bring their kids up right, but he was just along for the ride. He believed that there was something bigger than them; however, as he came out relatively unscathed from one situation after another, he began to see that there was more to it.

Becoming friends with the pastor of this church wasn't something he set out to do. They were just neighbors until Pam and Yvette got together. Somewhere along the line he and Tom forged a bond, and when Sam needed someone to talk to about his conscience being at war with what he did, there was only one person he could trust more than his own wife: Pastor Tom. And in this situation, he was the only one he could turn to. He didn't have an appointment, but as long as Tom was there and he wasn't in the middle of something, no doubt his door would be wide open for him.

"Sam, you're back!" Tom got out of his seat and greeted him at the threshold with a handshake and a friendly slap on the back. "Did everything work out?"

"Yes, we got our man. It was pretty anti-climactic compared to some of our other missions, but it's kind of nice to have an operation end without too much blood being spilled. At least this time nobody on our team got hit." He laughed nervously as Tom ushered him inside and closed the door.

"Have a seat, Sam. I know you didn't just come by to say hello," Tom said as he moved around his desk, grabbed his office chair, and rolled it to the front where Sam took a seat in a comfortable chair. "There used to be two of those in my office. The other one broke, so I'm making do here."

"No problem," Sam replied and crossed his ankle over his knee in an attempt to be casual. But he knew his anxiety was written on his face. Tom was too good a counselor to not see it.

"Have you been home yet?"

"No." Sam hesitated. "I had to come see you first, to talk about what happened. While I was on this operation." He shook his head. "Now I can't tell you the details of what it was about, just that it involved me...and a woman..."

"Oh. Well, why don't you tell me what your clearance allows you to reveal, and we'll go from there?"

Sam told him all the details of Bella's seduction and how he felt all the while he resisted. He hung his head as he talked about when they kissed and touched, and all the shame and unfulfilled desire came rushing back at him again. Finally, he raised his head, and said, "When Eve came to help with this mission, it made me forget about what I'd done. But now...I don't feel like I deserve to go home to her."

"You said she forgave you. Isn't that correct?"

"Yes, she did! But...I can't forgive myself."

Tom smiled sympathetically. "You know, Sam, that is one of the things about us humans. We have such a hard time forgiving, and when we do, it seems easier to forgive others than ourselves. Yvette has forgiven you, and as long as you've asked God for forgiveness, the slate is wiped clean. You just have to give yourself that gift."

"Sometimes I think about everything, I mean, just about every nasty thing I've ever done, and I find it hard to believe that it can be wiped away." He snapped his fingers. "Just like that." He paused, glanced out the window briefly, and returned his attention to Tom. "Eve forgave me so easily, it was almost too good to be true. In my line of work, you learn to be wary of things that seem to come too easily, because the people who offer them are either psychopathic or there's some kind of snare lurking underneath."

"It's not a light burden you carry, Sam, but you don't have to haul it alone."

"I know. I'm working on that, I really am. I guess I'm just not quite there yet." He gave Tom a crooked smile. "So what do I do for now? I need some peace of mind about what I did to get the job done."

"Just work on it every day, forgive yourself over and over. Let yourself believe that you're worthy of your wife's forgiveness and eventually you'll be able to move past it." He paused. "I suspect that as you live day by day with her, you'll get over it."

"You're probably right. I guess I should just go home now. I really missed my family." He sighed and stood. "You know, this is the first mission I've come back from where I've truly felt that? Before, I was always going home to an empty apartment, or a woman I was involved with, and it never felt like this. With or without company, it was so empty."

"Well then, you better get home." Tom smiled. "I'm sure Yvette and the kids are dying to see you."

"Well, I just saw Eve this morning, before everything closed up."

"I know, but I'm sure she'll still be really glad to see you home."

"Yeah. Thanks, Tom." Sam stood and offered his hand, and when Tom took it, he gave him a quick embrace. "You're a great friend."

"Always glad to be there, Sam. Take care."

After Sam got in the car and drove the short distance home, he felt a lightness in his chest, as if something had been lifted from him. As long as he kept thinking about his family and how much he loved them, and they loved him, he could get over this bump in the road of his life.

He drove past the front of the house before turning the corner, and he slowed down to take a good look at it. The Craftsman style home was similar to what they had before with the full porch on the front. Instead of stucco siding, it was a buttery yellow vinyl siding with dark green trim that brightened up the corner lot. The upstairs windows ran nearly the width of the house and gave them a great view of the sunset, which at that moment was beginning to beat against the panes and shine down into his eyes. He turned the corner, parked in the driveway, and turned off the car. As he walked the new sidewalk to the back door, he saw his kids playing in the back yard. Samuel rode a swing balancing on his stomach, but when he saw Sam, he quickly tipped himself off of it. The swing came back and nearly hit him in the head, but Samuel was faster. He ducked and ran toward his father.

"Daaaady! Daaaady!"

Esperanza turned from her efforts to climb up the slide. Her eyes grew wide as she slipped down to the bottom. "Daddy! You're home!" She leaped off the slide and ran to him.

His vision clouded. Sam held out his arms and caught his children as they tumbled into him, setting him off balance. He took a step back, knelt on the grass, and didn't care about the stains on his pants. He couldn't get enough of them as he held them close.

"I missed you two so much," he said with a voice full of emotion. Kissing them, he said, "I love you so much! And I love your Mommy so much."

"Their Mommy loves you too, Sam."

He turned his head and saw Yvette standing nearby with tears in her eyes. He reached out for her, and she knelt down with them, holding them all together. "Sam, try not to take another assignment like that again."

"I'm done with the CIA, sweetheart. Pearce knows that was my last mission. I'm not going anywhere if there's anything I can do to prevent it!"

"Thank God, because home's just not the same without you. Welcome home, honey."

"It's really good to be back, Eve. Believe me."

He held them for a few more minutes until he realized that they were giving Mrs. Petersen a strange show. But he looked up at her staring through her kitchen window, and he was surprised to see a genuine smile on her face. He smiled back, waved, and stood. "Okay kids, let's go inside and see what Mommy's made for dinner, huh?" He carried Samuel over his shoulder, took Espie's hand, and followed Yvette inside. His small bag could stay in the car for later. He had more pressing business to take care of: being with his family.


End file.
